


A Dragon Crowned by Sun and Spear

by AugustStories



Series: Howling at the Stars [40]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Brothers, Dragons, Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Kingsguard | Queensguard (A Song of Ice and Fire), Multi, Political Jon Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29042283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AugustStories/pseuds/AugustStories
Summary: Jon is crowned in Sunspear by Prince Doran and the whole of Dorne celebrates their Dragon King who is one of their own, and as always a coronation brings some surprises and guests along.And a lot of people also look back on how a shy little wolf had become their Son of Dorne.
Relationships: Allyria Dayne/Benjen Stark, Arthur Dayne & Jon Snow, Arthur Dayne/Aurane Waters, Arthur Dayne/Lyanna Stark, Ashara Dayne/Barristan Selmy, Jon Snow & Arya Stark, Jon Snow & Original House Dayne Character(s), Jon Snow & Willas Tyrell
Series: Howling at the Stars [40]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/818547
Comments: 38
Kudos: 76





	A Dragon Crowned by Sun and Spear

“Arthur?”

With a gasp, he startled awake in the chair, hand going immediately for Dawn but slim fingers halted his movement and he blinked until he found Lyanna's gentle gaze. She was standing at his side, curling careful fingers around his hand. “You should get some proper rest. There is no need to stay up just because I can't sleep.” She set his hand to her round middle, and Arthur's lips twitched up into a smile when he felt the kick, the babe was so very active again. “Come on, get in the bed.”

“Lyanna, I can't...”

“Oh bullshit, you can't,” Lyanna disagreed heartily and then tugged hard enough on his hand that he had no other choice to stand up or fall from the chair, “Oswell and Ser Gerold know better than to come up here unless there is literally a fire right in front of us, I sent my maids to wash and then rest themselves. Now lay down, even you can't protect us if you're dead on your feet. Rhaegar...” her voice stocked and she swallowed heavily, and like Arthur she briefly closed her eyes before taking a deep breath. “He would want both of us to look out for each other.”

He let himself be pushed onto the bed, not putting up any resistance because he was indeed dead tired. Rhaegar had been dead for almost a moon by now and sleep was still not something that came easy, neither did being awake for that matter.

“Do you think he'll have a chance to be happy?” Lyanna asked him when Arthur was still trying to get comfortable but he immediately looked back over to her, seeing her staring down at her belly, hands soothingly stroking over it.

“He will be happy, so very happy,” he promised her right away and Lyanna's gaze snapped back to him, and Arthur could feel this burning need to make it a promise and an oath and a prayer and so much more, just to keep Lyanna looking this hopeful. “He will be happy because I will ensure it. With Dawn if I have to.”

“But we don't know what is going on out there, what is happening in King's Landing?” Lyanna argued and she was back to pacing, Arthur couldn't tell right then if the babe was having her restless or the other way around. He would also not know that a few days down the road, they would know exactly what had been happening in King's Landing just then, that they worried about the future happiness of this babe while his siblings were murdered.

“Hey,” he gently called her way and Lyanna stopped again, “Rhaegar is gone but I'm still here.” It was the first time he could speak the words he had been thinking about enough already in the last weeks. Suddenly it didn't feel suffocating anymore that his best friend was never going to return to them, and how could it bury him alive when there were still people left who needed him. Rhaegar's children were still alive, one hadn't even yet drawn breath. The women in Rhaegar's life were still alive and they needed someone to protect them. Elia was out of his reach and Arthur knew that between Elia and Lyanna, it was the younger of the two who would always need his protection that tiny bit more. “I'm still here and I will not let anything happen to your child. I will make sure that you and him are happy.”

Lyanna smiled and walked over to him, something in her eyes that let her appear older suddenly. She stretched out a hand when she was close enough and cupped one side of his face.

“One day you will learn that you can't promise everyone the stars all the time, Arthur, but thank you,” Lyanna told him and he leaned into her hand. “You're a big brother, and I can see it but don't forget that my big brother promised me the world and see what he got for it.” The sadness in her eyes got only swept away when she yawned and Arthur was the one reaching out a hand this time, scooting back on the bed. Lyanna nodded at his unspoken question and climbed back on the bed, sighing when she could lie down and take the weight off of her feet.

She curled herself back against Arthur, her back to his chest, his arms around her.

“I don't think a little sister is the right term anymore for the way I see you,” Arthur also felt brave enough to admit it and Lyanna wrapped her hands around his on her round middle.

“And the last man who loved me more than a little sister died,” Lyanna reminded him and Arthur leaned forward until he could tug her head under his chin. “I don't want to lose you, too, because of promises, Arthur. I need you. This babe will need you.”

“And I will be there,” he told her and they fell into silence, both of their hands feeling the kicks of the babe slowly calm down, reacting to the rest his mother let herself have now.

“What do you think he'll be like?” Lyanna asked him a while later, the only light in the room came from the moon and the stars outside, the candles burned down now and neither of them cared about lighting a new one.

“Stubborn,” Arthur responded to Lyanna's question without hesitation and smiled when she giggled, “so very stubborn but if we can influence something then we'll make sure it's the good kind. He'll be kind, and hopefully he'll be more patient than his mother.”

“Ey,” Lyanna complained and kicked at him, “I can be plenty patient when I want to be. But you'll teach him what I can't. You'll teach him honor and kindness and what being fair and just really means.” Arthur didn't have the heart to remind her that when this whole nightmare was over and the Loyalists had finally won, he would return to be a Kingsguard. It wouldn't be for Rhaegar and if he had anything to do about it, it wouldn't be for Aerys either, but for little Aegon. He wouldn't have the time to help Lyanna raise this child like she was coloring in her dreams, she would have to seek help elsewhere but for one night he could give her this fantasy.

“He's ice and fire,” he said quietly and closed his eyes, “he'll be alright. Never too rash and never too stoic. He'll grow up a little brother, forever fussed over by a loving sister and forever being overprotected by a big brother. He in turn will forever be too protective of his sister and he will forever support his brother, help him carry the burden of the crown. And he'll never forget where he came from.”

“A prince born in Dorne, brother to the half Dornish King,” Lyanna painted them the picture and Arthur smiled into her hair, “fits together, don't you think?”

“Yeah, it does.”

“Do you remember the story I told you about Jon Stark? The King of Winter who defended the North against Valyrian invaders?” Curious to see where she was going with it, Arthur nodded against her head, even if he wasn't too sure anymore if he had recalled the entire story in right detail. “I think I want to give the babe that name in secret. I know I chose Jaehaerys and it is a beautiful name with a good history but I want something for me. Prince Jaehaerys will belong to the realm, he'll belong to Aegon. But Jon, he'll belong to me... to us.”

  
“It's a sweet idea.”

\--

A decade and a half later, Arthur watched how this boy who hadn't been a babe in a very long time carefully shifted the sword in his hands and traced a finger over red rubies. Jon was so very aware of the sharp blade he was handling, more aware certainly even of what it meant to Arthur to see him with it. The others in the room with them for this moment were all quiet, knowing to keep in the background.

Torrhen had his eyes set on Jon and his right hand resting on the sword at his hip, the sword that Arthur had handed to him only a few moons ago now, even if that tourney felt a whole lifetime ago. Compared to what they had planned and set in motion in the meantime. Two boys with their sire's swords.

Richard's eyes were certainly not dry where he sat between Barristan and Aurane on the couch, he was the last one who had seen this sword used in battle. Barristan carried a smile but his eyes were far away as well. Aurane was watching him, Arthur knew it, but he wasn't sad right now, he was filled with so much pride and happiness that it was almost bubbling over already.

Over in the other corner of this simple sitting room, Griff was as teary eyed as Richard was, but also looking tired, having only just arrived back in Dorne this morning after his quick trip to Lys, getting another surprise for Jon, even if Arthur was not willing to call it a gift. Jace was smiling next to him, maybe a little nostalgic as well but Arthur knew without a doubt that Jace had to be thinking about the difficult journey this sword had behind itself.

Half the world it had seen, at least Jace's story made it feel like that.

From the Trident to Starfall, years between it and miles out on sea.

Until the most unlikely of Rhaegar's friends found it far away from home.

But that was a story to tell for another time.

“You know,” Arthur drew Jon out of his thoughts when Torrhen twitched, as always the best sign that an intervention meant avoiding losing Jon to whatever could develop in his head. “This sword has seen blood and still it has never been named.” He didn't want to point attention to the fact that Rhaegar had never gotten down to naming his sword because he hadn't survived that sword's first battle but he could also see that Jon wasn't thinking about it. Violet eyes glanced over to him, sparkling with that fire that hadn't left them since Jon's words at Summerhall.

Rhaegar's sword wasn't the same piece of history as the one it had been made in memory of.

And Rhaegar hadn't known what Arthur, what all of them knew now, Blackfyre was no longer just a lost piece of history. It was a sword kept safe by a man who couldn't have been more chosen for it. A lost Targaryen sword for a lost Targaryen. Blackfyre would only leave Maegor's hands for those of his son's but still the sword would fight for the Targaryens once more and not against them.

And maybe one day, it would return home, too.

Rhaegar's sword was only a piece of importance to a small circle of people, it was bled but unnamed, bad luck for the war that was to come.

A name wasn't always something people carried out into the world.

Most swords had their names never revealed.

Out of the people in this room, only Arthur was wielding a sword with a history long enough to choke one on a good day. Aurane had never revealed the name of the sword he only kept on himself when going to war. Richard had kept it a secret. Arthur had never even thought about asking Barristan before.

Jace had lost the sword he had once departed Westeros with but his new one, the one he had been fighting in Essos for so long with, it was called the _Path Home_.

And then Jon was smiling and he spoke words in Valyrian that had half of the room's occupants frozen, while the other was too confused.

“Are you sure?” Torrhen asked with wide eyes while Richard, Barristan and Griff simply blinked into the round. “I mean... that's quite on the nose.”

“Oh, and a Wolf's Protection isn't?” Jon snarked right back and Torrhen actually flushed when Barristan raised his eyebrows at him, it had been a relatively new development. “It means a brother's justice,” Jon went on when Richard had opened his lips to no doubt ask that question. “And I'm not budging from it. I want Aegon with me on this path and this is how I can achieve it.”

Arthur squeezed Jon's shoulder.

“Also, Jaehaerys I took justice for what had been done to his brother Viserys. And his brother Aegon was called the Uncrowned. It's a lot of twisted paralells. I'm calling onto that as well because Jaehaerys became a great king.” Jon told them and twisted the sword around, Rhaegar's sword, his sword. Barristan sent Arthur a disapproving look for the gesture but Arthur hid his grin behind a quickly raised hand.

“It's a good name,” Jace threw in and he also pushed himself off the wall to set a hand upon Arthur's back who wondered if he looked as emotional as he felt. “And a good cause. Just make sure you and it get to see the end of it.”

“That's what I'm for,” Torrhen piped up again and he got the look from not just one man in the room, “he fights in court, the battlefield is mine.”

“I am starting to understand how Rhaegar and you felt all the time, Arthur,” Richard commented and flapped a hand in Torrhen's direction that got absendmindedly pushed away, Jon rolled his eyes over the lot of them.

Arthur nudged a foot forward in the bickering that broke out between Richard and Torrhen and Jon looked up at him, then smiled.

Happy. Content. Decided.

\--

“Can I ask you something?” Jon wanted to know as he walked along the shore outside of Sunspear's walls with his father on the evening before the coronation. People had come from all of Dorne. He would have wished to see more friends and more allies before they had all agreed that the news spreading to the capital afterwards could endanger the home journey of those people too much, so it staid within Dorne's borders.

The sheer overwhelming amount of people who were excited to see this moment come wasn't terrifying him as much as he had thought, which surprised him slightly. He was filled with contentment and happiness that soon enough he could finally do something against the injustice and wrongdoing in the kingdoms.

“Did you ever feel you couldn't?” His Pa asked him right back and Jon smiled, it was him who had insisted on this moment, to have that chance for it to just be the two of them again. One last time maybe even. From tomorrow on, they wouldn't just be father and son anymore, there would be so much more hanging in the air above them.

“If I had come to you five years ago, right after I found out the truth about Rhaegar,” he brought their minds back to that terrible afternoon where Jon had first learned what the victor's truth had meant for his own history, what lies had desperately needed to be spun to keep him alive. “And told you that I want to restore the Targaryens to the Iron Throne, that I want to be king... would you have said yes?”

“No,” his Pa showed his honesty, stopped them with their feet in shallow water, “I would have given everything in my power to keep you from going there, to even think about it. You weren't even ten, you were a child still and no child should be thinking about leading a war to restore their family name. And I would have been too afraid still.”

“Afraid?” Jon blurted the question out in complete surprise, looking at his father who had always stood above everything for him. Nothing could bring Arthur Dayne down. His Pa smiled and reached out so he could cup Jon's face in one palm, and it still rattled his mind so much that there was no height difference anymore, that Jon even still had a chance to grow taller than his Pa.

“I wasn't ready, my little wolf,” his Pa told him gently, “I wasn't ready at all. I buried your mother in my white cloak, that was the last part of being a Kingsguard that I left behind at the tower. I was done with Kings and greater purposes. Or at least I thought so. I left Westeros, a broken man who was struggling to find hope still for himself. I had told myself that I'll keep living for you but I had no hope that happiness would find me outside of that again. I was Pa, I was Uncle Arthur.”

“It was enough until it wasn't,” Jon took the thought that he saw in his father's eyes and his Pa nodded, “yeah, I know a thing or two about that feeling.”

“You weren't the only one who looked at Westeros in the last years, Jon. Not the only one who saw the injustice,” his Pa said and then threw look up at the sky slowly darkening above them, the stars weren't visible yet but Jon had always thought his Pa could see them anyway. “This anger has been growing in me since... well truthfully, this anger has always been there but when I could do even a little in helping then I could control it. And after Rhaegar died, after Elia, the children, your mother... grief was stronger than anger. Pain was numbing it for so long.”

“Until what changed?”

“Two things,” his Pa explained and looked back at him again, “wrapped together in that visit to King's Landing when Robert learned I was still alive. I saw how angry he was at me, how much he wanted me dead. How in his head there was no distinction between Rhaegar and me, we were one and the same.” And then he smiled, and Jon knew what he was going to say. “I was so angry, disappointed and just... and then there was Aurane. He made staying in that castle so much easier, he has made everything since then easier. We healed together, we got stronger together and we got ready together, I think. We are both still afraid that something will happen to you on this journey, that we'll be powerless to stop it but we also know that going for the throne is a necessary step foryou.”

Jon wasn't going to tell his Pa that on the other side of this conversation it was him who was afraid that something was going to happen to Aurane and his Pa and he was going to be powerless to stop any of it. Once word reached the Iron Throne and King Robert about the coronation of a new dragon king, it was Arthur Dayne who was going to remain in the center point of Robert's fury, not Jon, not anyone else. Robert's lack of disctinction between Rhaegar Targaryen and Arthur Dayne would unleash in unworldly rage towards the half of that duo that was still alive.

“We're not going to fight this war alone,” Jon chose different words to bring some comfort and his father nodded, “we have friends and allies.”

“Yes, we do,” his father chuckled, brief moment of darkness vanishing from his face again, “it's something that your father would be... probably is very proud about. You learned from one of his greatest mistakes.” Jon cocked an eyebrow and his Pa continued on. “Rhaegar started his Rebellion and then stepped out to spin his net. You did it exactly the other way around, even without really intending to.”

“But I didn't,” Jon insisted and got them moving again, wanted to walk while talking, it had always helped him greatly when unraveling a knot in his thoughts. “I never set out to spin a net of allies. Other people did that for me... Doran, Corlyn, Andric, Lucerys... I didn't...”

“And why did those people do it?” His Pa interrupted him and Jon frowned at him, “I was pissed a long time, Jon, angry about people making plans behind your back because I intentionally blinded myself to the path leading you to any thrones. Now? Now, I am fucking grateful that Doran, Andric and Corlyn did what they did. We had time to get ready, Jon, time to stop being afraid in my case and time to get confident in what was wanted in yours. It's time that you would have never had, had I stopped them in the past from their scheming. But they weren't alone in it, you were spinning a lot by yourself, too.”

“I did nothing...”

“Yes, you did,” his father disagreed with him, “you just didn't think of it as spinning nets for allies. Look at the people you call your closest friends.” His Pa pointed out and Jon wanted to argue that he hadn't picked them because of whose sons they were but he also knew that his father was aware of it. “Robb and Vaemon are sons of influential people. Robb means the loyalty of the North for the future, Vaemon gives you the backing of the Crownlands, which is more important than most kings gave it thought. Willas... you haven't made anything official but I can read between the lines if I want to, Jon. Your friendship with Willas and the fact that you told him the truth before the rest would know... it doesn't mean you will get the Reach on your side in this war but at least their numbers won't stand collectively against you. Highgarden won't fight us on a battlefield.”

“And still, it was Doran who decided to give a Gargalen daughter to Lord Lannister,” Jon pointed out vaguely, unwilling to take the compliment his father was trying to smother him in. “It's Jaime's loyalty to you that is letting us have incredible spys right under Robert's nose.”

“Jaime isn't just loyal to me anymore,” his father defended and Jon shrugged, he trusted the Golden Lion because his gut chose to, because he had seen the guilt Ser Jaime still felt like burning flames on his skin over not having been able to save Jon's siblings. “I still have a lot of work to do.”

“We have,” his father reminded him and nudged a shoulder against Jon, “we have work to do together. Don't ever forget you aren't alone in this, my little wolf. I'm proud of where we stand now, and we wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for the decisions we made along the way.” Jon nodded and they walked on in silence for a while. There were a lot of questions still that Jon wanted to ask, things he wanted to talk about, discussions he wanted to have about things that had happened in the past but all of it could wait until later, for now he wanted to enjoy these quiet moments with his father.

A moment later, they both looked up when something seemed to a throw a shadow over the setting sun, casting them in shadows, Jon narrowed his eyes and took a step closer into the water before he was suddenly laughing. Laughing and grinning and then running towards the wider arc of the beach maybe sixteen feet ahead. Worries forgotten, dark thoughts wiped out. Heart bursting with fiery flames of triumph.

“Well, I'll be damned,” he heard his Pa still call out but then his voice vanished under the sound of a storm, a storm in purple and violet. Gasps reached his ears from the castle walls not far off but he ignored them, they would soon realize that there wasn't a spark of danger for them here, not with him. Shadows crawled up the walls of Sunspear as Jon's heart set itself truly together again for the first time in two years, and he couldn't believe it.

Couldn't believe it when water and sand began to whirl around him under the strength of giant wings, when the ground moved under his feet for a moment when feet set down on the sand, legs that were taller than him now bending down. A neck curved down, a head swung around.

“Hey, boy.”

And Starfyre nudged him only hard enough to send him toppling back into the sand but Jon was laughing, heart beating hard with this surprise, this fulfilled wish. The purple dragon leaned further down and covered him from more than just head to toes with his head alone, blowing hot air over him but Jon only closed his eyes and hugged what little he could.

  
“Holy shit, you have grown,” his Pa said somewhere off to the left and Jon snorted against shimmering violet scales just before Starfyre turned his head to the left, a huff followed and then Jon's Pa grunted. “Yeah, yeah, I missed you, too, big guy.” High pitched squeals and fluttering wings announced two little siblings and Jon raised an arm to cover his face when Starfyre temporarily took off again to greet Sonara and Rhaegal who flew circles around the far bigger older brother. “He is easily two times the size he was when he left, maybe even more.” His Pa commented when he pulled Jon back to his feet, his own hair was blown out of order.

“Yeah,” Jon agreed but lacked the awe, he was just too godsdamn happy that his dreams and prayers had been heard, that Starfyre had returned because he had wanted him back so much for this day that was coming. For the war that was coming. Starfyre was half of an army alone. People came running onto the beach, among them Oberyn and Torrhen, Rhaena following with hitched up skirts and Jon grinned at her the most, momentarily forgetting the tension between them. “Yeah, he is.”

\--

“Alright,” a voice called over the mayhem that had fallen over Jon's private rooms and he was so happy to hear Torrhen's 'General voice' as his Pa had dubbed it a few years ago. “Everyone out. He is being crowned a King, not an invalid. He is perfectly capable of finishing to dress himself,” Torrhen politely snarled at the too many people in this room and they all bowed and then hurried out, sending frightened glances towards the tall dark haired man in the very much contrasting white cloak.

When the door got closed, Jon slumped against the mirror and breathed out heavily. It was the morning of his coronation and he had been woken up way too early and too many people wanted something and yes, he knew so many things were important now but could be maybe get into a pairof pants first.

“Thank you.”

“Felt like an intervention was necessary,” Torrhen mentioned casually while picking up tunics and doublets from the floor, dropping them into a heap on a chair. “You need anything?” He asked only after he had already given Jon what he had dearly needed in that moment, just silence to breathe, so Jon smiled and shook his head, finally putting on a fine pair of black pants.

“Everything set up?” He wanted to know when Torrhen had walked over to the window and had thrown a look out onto the square, the noise of people could be heard from even up here.

“Yeah, everything is done and ready.” Torrhen assured him and turned back to observe him, he was shined to perfection himself. Edric had polished the armor until one could use it like a looking glass almost, Rhaena had tamed his hair no doubt. “People are slowly coming together, guests have all arrived. Unless no one told me we're still missing someone. Richard and Milo have overseen the square the entire morning already so nothing can go wrong. Arthur wanted to go down soon to check up on things himself. The wolves are prowling along the back alleys which I might add was not my idea but Barristan's.”

“It's fine,” Jon laughed it off and stepped in front of the long looking glass again that Tyene had had brought to his room for this day. “I'd rather have people's paranoia go overboard today than have something happen to someone.”

“We're lucky then that the entire Dayne paranoia is on high alert,” Torrhen snorted and pushed himself off the window sill to cross over to Jon, his fingers quickly and blindly fastening the swordbelt around Jon's hips. It was fine black leather bestitched with red threeheaded dragons and silver stars. “I haven't seen my mother since yesterday. My sister only for the few minutes it took to torture me with a brush. Andric and Doran have been locked up in Doran's solar all morning again, don't know what those two are fretting about.”

“Are the dragons behaving?” Jon wanted to know next, he hadn't heard a roar or the flap of wings in a while and though Starfyre had certainly not changed at all where it concerned his character, Sonara got fire happy when bored.

“As much as Sonara is capable of behaving,” was hence also Torrhen's reply and Jon glared at him in the mirror, Torrhen simply shrugged his shoulders. Jon wasn't outright going to say that Torrhen and Sonara were on a path towards a complicated relationship but the dragon truly didn't make it easy for Torrhen to start liking her.

“That's not funny, Torre.”

“I have seen Starfyre fly in front of Sonara breathing fire at a palm tree in excitement with my own damn eyes and he didn't even wince.” Torrhen deadpanned back at him and Jon closed his eyes to take a breath. Ever since they had returned from the tourney, Torrhen and Rhaena had been more and more at each other's throat, something their animal companions had picked up so easily, and somehow it was Jon suffering the most under it. “And if I can remind you, I am the only one who has so far suffered a loss from that overeager dragon's temper, so I am the only one allowed to joke.”

Jon winced, Torrhen would chew on that for a long time to come still if Rhaena wasn't getting Sonara any calmer soon. He had liked that horse.

“Can you help me with the armor?” He asked to distract his cousin from that bad memory and waved the light chainmal around that Torrhen, his Pa and too many other paranoid people had insisted for him to wear under the new clothes. Just a precaution, his father had said, just to make sure I can breathe during the actual ceremony. Torrhen huffed but moved closer again and helped Jon into the chainmail, his fingers being far more experienced in getting armor fastened. Much to Aunt Ashara's despair, their uncles had happily sent Torrhen along to border patrols as Jon had been swept away into coronation preparation and talks to establish a working council that went beyond the positions of a royal small council.

War needed more people, needed Generals, needed Captains, needed an army, needed a fleet. Needed a lot of talking that would have bored Torrhen senseless.

“There is a surprise I brought,” Torrhen mentioned once he had fastened the strings at the back of Jon's doublet, “I thought you might want to meet her in private rather than have some grand first meeting in the eyes of dozens of people.” Jon raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Torrhen over his shoulder. Torrhen only smirked and then without further commentary walked over to the door and then vanished into the solar, leaving the bedroom door half closed.

Jon didn't need to wait long to get an answer though because within the minute Torrhen returned with a young girl on his arm. A young girl in a purple dress that brought out her eyes, silver hair braided back into a simple style and Jon just knew immediately who she was.

“Your Grace,” his visitor greeted him and curtsied deep when Torrhen let go of her but Jon shook his head and hurried over to pull her up again gently.

“Please, don't. You're family,” he insisted and had to swallow around his heart threatening to jump straight from his chest. Not just family, but the closest blood family he had left from his Targaryen side. He gave Torrhen a grateful smile and Torrhen nodded back before melting into the background so Jon could focus entirely on the princess standing before him, more than a head smaller than him.

“I have wanted to meet you for a long time,...” Daenerys began and then hesitated when it came to his name and Jon could understand her well. So far the only people who didn't twist their tongues when addressing him under a new name were Lucerys and Elion but with family and in private there would not be a change anyway. He wouldn't be able to bear it.

“Jon, my family will continue to call me Jon.” He clarified and squeezed her fingers softly, touched by the blinding smile she gifted him then.

“Then please call me Dany.”

“Griff had not told me he was planning on bringing you along,” Jon explained his surprise as he led Dany back into the solar because that was way more cleaned up than his bedroom, left in a state of chaos since too many people had descended on him.

“I believe that might be because I begged until he gave in the day before his planned departure,” Dany answered him and they took a seat across from each other on the settees, Torrhen had followed them but Jon was growing used to not always checking where he was standing.

'A King constantly referring to eye contact with his Kingsguard looks like he is expecting an assassination attempt at any second.'

“Would you tell me about your time in Essos? I miss it a little every day.”

When it knocked a little later, Jon only reluctantly paused the conversation because hearing about Dany's experiences in growing up in Essos brought a lot of pleasant memories along for him. It had been wildly different for them, especially in the beginning, but he was still glad to hear that Dany considered most of her childhood happy, free and safe. And full of laughter, which would be a surprise for a lot of people considering who her guardian was.

Torrhen went to open the door upon Jon's sign and revealed a beaming Tyene on the arm of a figure beneath a dark brown travel cloak with the hood pulled deep into their face. Jon didn't tense up because Holden was staying guard outside his quarters and he surely would have been shown the identity of Tyene's companion already.

“I brought a surprise,” she chirped and then got a glimpse into the room when Torrhen moved to the side with an eyeroll and half a smirk. “And I see now that I'm not the only one.”

“Surprises are still welcome when they're good ones,” Jon told her and got back to his feet, Dany stood up as well, “who is it you brought then? I'm not expecting anyone anymore as far as I was told.” Tyene's companion pulled back his hood with a laugh then and Jon froze.

In the good kind of shock.

“Figured you wouldn't expect me, I suppose the raven with my invite got lost.”

“Willas,” Jon spluttered out when he could find his tongue again and he was glad that Tyene kicked the door shut before walking over to introduce herself to Dany on her own, leaving Jon to shake his head. “What are you doing here? The risk...”

“No one knows that I am here,” Willas interrupted him and shrugged off the ratty cloak, underneath which he was dressed far more according to the station he was holding now. “Well, Garlan does. We have agreed that this is the one dumb thing I am allowed to make in my new Wardenship. I wanted to be here, didn't want to regret it later on. To whomever asks back home, Garlan will say that I have taken a handful of guards for a personal hunt. To gather my thoughts. I dropped my guards off at an Inn two villages out from Sunspear, they'll behave.”

“Been exhausting?” Jon guessed over his friend's last weeks and was close enough by then to embrace Willas briefly. Willas gave a hoarse laugh, he looked tired but also somehow more content than he had before.

“I would say you've got no idea but I have a feeling you of all people might actually.” Willas snarked and they exchanged a grim smile. “I've got letters from the Iron Throne that we should go over but it can wait until tomorrow, maybe with some more people present.”

“You know the risks of your journey home, right?” Jon asked but Willas shrugged it off, “Willas, we already have the letters written. This night still, ravens will fly for all Seven Kingdoms.”

“By the time the Iron Throne has moved out of their shock and agreed on a response, I'll be long back in Highgarden.”

“Fine,” Jon chose to let that argument go for the time being, making plans at the back of his head to get Willas and his men on a ship for their return into the Reach though. “But you know what seeing you here will mean to the people of Dorne.”

“Can't give you the loyalty of the entire Reach, Your Grace,” Willas changed his tone when he answered and Jon blinked, “but Highgarden is certainly standing with the new Dragon King. We'll see about the rest when I get home and face the Lords.”

“Are you sure?”

“Highgarden's swords are yours. And no soldier of mine will put himself in your way.”

“Thank you,” Jon said and then searched for the icebreaker before his emotions could get the better of him again. He found it easily enough upon catching Tyene's twinkling eyes and Daenerys standing demurely next to her. “Willas, I'd like to introduce the Princess Daenerys to you. Daenerys, this is Willas Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and Warden of the South, and a good friend of mine.” Willas stepped forward then and took the hand of a curtsying Daenerys after he himself had bowed, and Jon smiled as Willas pressed a light kiss to the back of Daenerys' hand, prompting her to blush.

What Jon didn't know yet was that this simple private introduction would set something in motion that would later on win him the war.

\--

“How are you feeling?”

“I am fucking terrified,” Arthur answered Elion's question and then loosened the stress of his shoulders with a long exhale before he turned around to face the older man, half an eye maybe still kept on the courtyard below them. Elion laughed and stepped closer, leaned against the wall that Arthur had been standing behind to stare down at the last minute preparations. It was maybe playing right into his paranoia that had been resurfaced to a completely new heights since he had donned a white cloak again but he had needed this higher advantage point to just settle his nerves.

Nerves over more than just threats to Jon's life.

“Good,” Elion said without losing the smile on his face, “I think everything else would have freaked me out.” Arthur snorted and settled his attention fully on his brother's former foster father then. Elion was dressed in glowing Martell colors, for the first time ever in Arthur's memory, even on Elia's grand wedding day Elion had dressed down to fall into the background. Something so very easy then because Elia had shone over everything and everyone back then anyway. Today it was more important to show which Houses stood with the new King. Today he was not just the father of the ruling Prince of Dorne, he was not just the former Prince Consort, today he was the new King's grandfather. The new King's very Dornish grandfather.

“Are you scared?” He wanted to know and smiled himself when Elion laughed again, rolling his shoulders to get rid of tension. Above them Starfyre took his lazy wide circles over Sunspear, and Arthur knew that as long as the dragon was this calm, there was seriously nothing to worry about.

“Haven't slept an hour last night,” the older man told him and in one they both turned around again to watch over the courtyard once more. People were running around, busy but peaceful. Richard was standing on a daise before the sept entrance, overseeing, a white cloak draped around his shoulders.

“Are we really doing the right thing?” Arthur dared to answer a question he hadn't even gotten answered by Aurane last night as they had stared at the ceiling, unable to sleep, unable to rest for a long time. It was maybe the last moment to entertain some selfish thoughts, the deed was done. Jon had declared his intentions, there was no going back anymore, and Arthur knew that his son would never want to go back now. Too long he had been thinking about these plans of his, too long he had decided that he could do something against the injustice in the Seven Kingdoms.

“It's his choice, and he did a lot of thinking about it,” Elion showed that he was thinking right along the same line. He glanced over to one of the castle towers where Jon would be getting ready still. Hopefully not haunted by too many people. “He is ready.”

“Are we?” Arthur asked without directing it at Elion and they both laughed after a heavy moment of silence, down below Benjen and Barristan were walking up to Richard.

“Probably not. It still feels like yesterday that I saw him for the first time, hiding behind your legs, so small and shy.” Elion recalled for himself and Arthur laughed, mind going back to far away seeming days where Jon could actually still hide behind his legs. “He wouldn't look me in the eyes for days until he caught me with that thick book from the library. Suddenly it didn't matter that I was a stranger still, I couldn't even blink before I had him sitting on my lap, asking about the stories in the book.”

**Flashback**

_Elion stopped in his tracks, halfway down the corridor that twisted off at the end towards his private solar, this place where everyone knew not to enter unless they were his grandchildren or he had personally opened the door for them upon invitation. Similarly stopped just like him after having hurried around the corner on the left from where the staircase would lead down to the corridor of the nursery and the children's many rooms, little Jon Dayne stood with wide eyes and frozen limbs._

“ _Hello.”_

_It was only the second time that their paths had crossed, the first time being very much intentional and planned when Arthur had approached him to introduce this shy little kid with the fussy black locks and a dead man's sharp eyes. He had hidden himself behind Arthur's long legs, hadn't dared to meet Elion's eyes and hadn't let go of his father's pants. Now, there was nothing and no one to hide behind, especially not Ashara's rowdy boy who had after only a sennight taken over the Water Gardens as his new kingdom._

_Elion had of course seen the boy around the palace, the pools and the gardens in the meantime but he had a good feeling he had never been noticed again. When he looked at the kid now, he felt that same pang in his heart again that his first look had already given him, Arthur's gentle understanding eyes giving him a smile. There was not a lot that the boy had in common with the siblings he had never met and would never be able to meet but there was some._

“ _Hello,” Jon piped back and he was still very much frozen with shyness, he truly only showed his real self still when surrounded by Arthur's protective hands or Torrhen Sand's blinding character._

_But then._

_Oh then._

_It was only a flicker of a glance but suddenly the shyness and hesitance got wiped away in those purple eyes and burning curiosity took its place as little Jon spotted the thick aged book in Elion's right hand. It was an old one, bought by Elion's own grandfather when his father had been nothing but a babe in arms, filled with children's stories about the Rhoynar of old, of times from before Nymeria had led them across the wide sea._

_Elion had gotten it out of the library again for little Elia and the new babe that Ellaria was carrying._

_And what his father's warm prodding hands hadn't achieved, an old worn book could so easily._

“ _Is that an important book?”_

_The first words Jon had ever spoken directed at him and not just in his general presence and they laid down the foundation of their relationship, of this bond that had begun to be woven together in just that moment._

“ _For me, it is,” Elion answered and felt like he couldn't move as the boy edged closer to him, eyes zeroed in on the book and gods, he was so sweet. “In the general sense, not really. Stories for children don't always hold much interest in the eyes of those who study our history. Would you like to see?”_

“ _I would love to,” Jon said eagerly and Elion's heart skipped because the only other grandchild who had ever shown this much interest in books had been Sarella but she had loved to read alone and somewhere hidden even more than together with someone else. Elion crouched down and let the boy take a look at the book in his hands, he expected some scrunched up nose and confusion in those smart eyes but Jon surprised the Seven Hells out of him when violet dawned with recognition._

“ _That's written in the Rhoynar tongue, isn't it?” Jon looked up at him and Elion blinked in complete shock at him. “I can't read it, I only know some words. Do you know more? Can you teach me?” It was the first real interaction that he had had with the boy but right away he understood why Arthur had told him to brace himself. Once the wall of hesitance was broken, the questions just came pouring out._

_Elion blinked again and took a breath and definitely expected the knot of something lodged in his throat for a moment, emotions nearly overwhelming while those eyes, Rhaegar's eyes, looked at him with longing and curiosity. With kindness and so much innocence._

_This was what Aegon and Rhaenys could have been like._

_Would they have wrung him dry with their questions, too? Would they have asked him to read to them, too, in the tongue of their mother's home land?_

_He would never be able to get an answer._

_But this boy, this little boy, their little brother, he was standing right there, asking to spend some time with him. Asking to be taught something._

_Screw those thinking they could decide the kid's future for him, Elion decided just then as he reached out to tap Jon's nose, earning himself a beaming smile that made him look more like Arthur than anything else. This boy would get what his fathers had never been able to have, he would get what had been stolen from Rhaegar before he had even been born, what Elion had stolen from Arthur when the boy had been too young still. Innocence. Freedom. The chance to make his own choices for his future._

_Elion had lost too much in too little time, this boy wouldn't follow._

“ _I can teach you all that, and so much more.”_

_He held out a hand and Jon grasped it with so much trust that it sent tears into Elion's eyes, he would have given the life and the whole world to get his daughter and her children back but he could honor their memories now by protecting their little brother. By being a grandfather to a boy who had no one to fill that role._

_A little later when Oberyn came to ask something of him, he found the two of them in Elion's private solar, Jon balancing on a stool to trace his fingers over book spines and Elion laughing while he made sure the boy wouldn't fall._

**Flashbackend**

“I still mourn the day he could read them himself.” Arthur mentioned with a sigh then and watched the wolves tumbling out of another alleyway. “You know, he pretended for weeks that he couldn't read just because he saw how much joy it brought me to sit down with a book with him in the evenings. And now he's gonna get a crown.” His eyes flickered over to the steps that led up to the Sept where in only a few hours Doran would set Maekar Targaryen's crown upon Jon's head, where in just a few hours Dorne would crown the next Dragon King.

“Do you think there was ever a chance we wouldn't have ended up right here?” Elion wanted to know with curiosity but Arthur shook his head right away without taking his eyes off of the Sept.

“Not since we left Volantis,” he revealed his opinion, revealed the moment where even he had known things had changed for all of them. “If we had staid there, if Jon had grown up away from Westeros like Lord Maegor did, then maybe he would have thought like him or Lysaro as he grew up. _That isn't my place, I don't know those lands, don't know the people, I wouldn't be seen as a king but an invader._ I have no doubt that Jon would have found a place for himself in Volantis but we returned and he grew up aware of the history and the struggles the people here face.”

He grew up seeing how incompetent the man calling himself King truly was.

“What did Lord Stark write you?” Elion changed the topic so abruptly then that Arthur raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Elion once more. “You once told me you made him a promise.” Promises, always promises. Too many promises. This coming war would in many regards come down to too many promises made between the living and the dead.

“Ned never wrote back since I sent my last letter preparing him for what was to come,” which had frankly been just politeness on Arthur's side, he hadn't needed to do so. “I promised him to not raise a king, and I didn't.” He had raised a son. “Ned knows that, too. I raised a boy, raised my son, everything else... it's just who he is. And I can't stop that.”

He never could have had. No matter if he had wished to do so, no matter how many obstacles would have stood in their way, Jon was who he was.

“He's a King.” Elion spoke the words and Arthur nodded, together they turned their eyes towards the square once more where just then five servants were unrolling the red carpet down the steps of the sept. A shadow fell over them as Starfyre showed off his massive wing span once more.

“Our King.”

“So, let's do this. Let's crown him.”

\--

Arthur laughed when Aurane twitched as Rhaegal lost the upwinds again briefly and dove too low over the square for the uptenth time. The dragons were chasing each other over Sunspear, still too excited to calm down after being reunited. It was hilarious in a way to see them play, the last time Arthur had seen Starfyre, the other two had still been eggs, and now Sonara and Rhaegal, who were both definitely big enough to be ridden soon according to Aemon, looked so incredibly tiny compared to Starfyre.

The people already assembling in the square were equally scared and entertained by the show the dragons were pulling off, which Arthur credited mostly to Starfyre's calm nature and Sonara behaving herself for once. There hadn't been a palm tree set on fire in almost a fortnight. And Rhaegal was an additional reason on why acceptance was more dominating than fear among the people. Arthur would have never thought to ever have the sense to call a fire breathing creature cuddly but Rhaegal definitely defied all logic.

Back in Starfall, he had already sought out people far easier and far more often than Starfyre had in his time, more than Sonara would probably ever do. The green dragon was affectionate and so incredibly careful. And clumsy still, but never in a dangerous way. Since their shift over to Sunspear to get everything ready, Arthur had found Rhaegal more than once down on the beach, holding so effortlessly still while children poked at green scales under Jon's attentive eyes.

“He's gonna crash face first into a building one of these days,” Aurane grumbled and Arthur laughed as he hooked himself under his arm, pulling him along to where Benjen, Barristan, Oberyn and Martin were standing together. Richard was still overseeing the square, Holden had joined him by now, together with the spear wielding household guards of the Martells and some soldiers in Dayne armor. With Jaime and Adrian unable to attend of course, the Kingsguard was down to a number that would have sent Arthur's hackles raised to alarm but Milo and Luca had jumped up and nearly begged Jon to temporarily fill their positions and Jon had happily accepted.

So now they were only one man down and the overall presence of so many Lords and their household guards made up for it. As did the wolves and the dragons who alone probably counted for a whole nother Kingsguard.

“He's just happy,” Arthur belatedly reacted to Aurane's words and earned himself an understanding smile as they stopped next to their friends. “Have Andric and Doran found a way out of the solar yet?” He wanted to know from Oberyn then because aside from the women and girls, those two were the only ones in familiar faces he was still missing aside from Elion but after their conversation Elion had mentioned that he wanted a moment with Jon still so that explained his absence.

“I've sent Daemon to inquire if they still desire to see Jon crowned or if we should find someone else,” Oberyn joked and Arthur rolled his eyes. He smiled next when he saw Allyria carrying a scowling Vorian in her arms, Alysanne and Lyarra walking in their best dresses next to her. They joined Eyrin where she was already sitting with Eleana and Emil, Edric was with the other squires. It was such a grand day and it somehow hurt that neither Rhaegar nor Lyanna could be there to see Jon walk up those steps but the reasonable part within Arthur knew perfectly well that even if the times would have been so very different, Rhaegar would have never been meant to be around to see either of his sons crowned.

His son being crowned meant Rhaegar was dead, in a good world, in a twisted world, in a perfect world. The old king was never meant to see the next one carry a crown.

“Uncle?”

Arya's appearance snapped Arthur back out of his thoughts again and he looked down at her fretting with the silver and gray dress she had been convinced to wear today. Or more begged to as Jon had actually went down on one knee to have her agree.

“Looking beautiful there, Arya,” Arthur provided and Arya scowled up at him, she would have been far more comfortable in a squire's get up but with all these Lords and Ladies around it was important to have the future King's close family fulfill the right image and even Arya had understood it. Which didn't mean she wasn't allowed to hate the dress. “Just for a couple of hours, like I promised. Once the celebrations get going, you can switch right back into trousers.”

“'kay,” Arya gave a long suffering sigh that had all men chuckle in fondness. With Arthur in full armor and soon to be preoccupied with guarding a King, and Benjen likewise on duty to soon guard Andric, Arya then chose to use rounded sweet eyes on Aurane who huffed but picked her up anyway.

“Where is Nymeria?” Oberyn directed Arya's attention away from lace dresses then and earned himself the ever guarded look from gray eyes. Even for a rumbunctious child like Arya Oberyn Martell could be a bit much at times but he had certainly begun to win her over by showing absolute fascination in a Northern girl naming her direwolf after a Dornish hero of old.

“Around,” Arya deadpanned at him and then giggled in the next moment when Aurane jumped with her in his arms because Nymeria had turned up right behind him and licked his left hand. In a move to hide away his amused grin that he couldn't contain anymore, Arthur turned away from Aurane's scowl and then froze right away as his eyes fell upon Griff returning to them and the person walking next to Griff, a red cloaked guard following close by.

_**Flashback** _

_When Jon came to him late one night after their return from the North, Arthur saw right away that something was weighing heavy on those strong shoulders. Aurane was back on Driftmark for a couple of weeks and they both missed him terribly after so many moons of undisturbed time with him. The women of the House were all visiting Blackmont because Lady Larra had a nameday coming up and it had to them felt like a good opportunity to make the short journey all together after such a long time apart._

_Edric and Torrhen had gone hunting with Carral and his men and with Andric in Sunspear to discuss some things with Doran and Benjen coming along to guard him, it left Arthur tied to Starfall as the castellan._

“ _What is weighing on your shoulders tonight?” He wanted to know when Jon had settled next to him on the floor. It was the first time that their paths crossed up here in the Palestone Sword in the nighttime, regardless of how often they both sought out this corner to think and sort out their heads._

“ _Daenerys' letter,” Jon answered and most of him seemed a million miles away, his eyes were turned to watch the stars but he was clearly not seeing them at all._

_Another one of those nights then._

“ _I thought you were happy about her letter, she seemed excited over one day meeting you, and us.” Arthur remained calm and tried to fish for the trouble that was causing this clash of brooding and sadness. Jon took a moment to answer, a time long enough for Arthur to open his arms to the white ball of fur that came tumbling into his lap, Ghost having needed more time to climb the many stairs. He supposed that Meraxes and Starfyre were doing the sensible thing and slept the night away._

“ _I am happy,” Jon began when he had finally found his voice, “I am so relieved that she is happy and safe and that hopefully one day we'll be able to meet. That one day I can welcome her into my family. But... it made me think of what...” and there Jon turned to him, brows furrowed so deep in his frown. “What do you think Viserys would have thought of me if he had known?”_

_Oh._

“ _That's a tough question.”_

“ _You knew him, Pa.”_

“ _The last time I saw Viserys, he was five, Jon. He was a child who had been exposed to too much of Aerys' influence without any possibility of balancing it out with good. He was a child who terrorized cats and was terribly spoiled. The servants were terrified of doing anything wrong where it concerned him, because of what had happened to previous nursemaids when the other boys had died.” Arthur recalled it easy enough but didn't want to think back on that time too much. “Aerys had always, always sought the blame for everything on innocent people. If so much as a hair had been pulled on Viserys, someone would have lost their head, and of course Viserys didn't know that but he noticed that he could get away with everything. Children shouldn't grow up like that.”_

“ _Do you think there was anything to the rumor that Aerys had disinherited Rhaegar?”_

“ _No, I don't think that is true. They never saw eye to eye, they were too different where it was most important but Rhaegar was still his son. Aerys saw slights to his family as the worst offense, he saw it as treason. Disinheriting Rhaegar would have never come to his mind.” Arthur explained and Jon's eyes were still clouded, “Aerys would have wanted Rhaegar to become King just so he could watch him fail in the afterlife. Trust me, Jon, I've had that very conversation with him. When Rhaella crowned Viserys on Dragonstone, it was only because she thought he was in truth the rightful king, not because of decisions Aerys had made.”_

“ _Do you think we... that there should have been a greater effort to get us all together after the war was over?” Jon wondered and Arthur winced. “I am not blaming you that you didn't,” Jon was quick to continue and met Arthur's eyes again, this time already more focused on the present. “I know it was important to keep me safe and a secret, to keep your own survival a secret from the rebels. And going on... hunts into the unknown to find the two sought after Targaryens, it wouldn't have exactly made anything easier. I'm just curious if... if maybe things could have been different if Willem Darry had joined us with Viserys and Daenerys. She wrote me that Viserys always spoke in the best words about you.”_

“ _That's because of Aerys, not because of any interaction I had with him.”_

“ _Does that change anything? You always told me that you never stopped being yourself in front of Aerys. You never had to hide yourself. He saw who you were, the real you, aside from all the rebellion plans with Rhaegar.” Jon reasoned and sometimes Arthur really wanted a moment still where the boy wasn't smarter than him by leagues already._

“ _We would have certainly faced some issues in the beginning,” Arthur gave in to the what if because he saw that Jon wouldn't let him off the hook this time. “Maybe it could have been resolved and Viserys would have let go of his aspirations. Maybe Ash and I could have given him part of the childhood back that he should have had. Would it have made things more complicated overall? Of course. No one knew you existed, so it was easy to hide you away from the crown. Viserys and Daenerys were being hunted, and it would have been impossible to fake their deaths and present them as someone else. Maybe with Daenerys, it could have worked, maybe we could have passed her off as Ash's daughter but Viserys? Griff said the boy looked too much like a young Aerys. What brings this on? We've had this conversation before but you never showed so much interest in what Viserys might have thought of you.”_

“ _He's dead now,” Jon unnecessarily reminded them both, “I'll never get an answer. And I hate that.” Arthur sighed and wrapped an arm around Jon's shoulders. “It's just another lost part of my blood. And I know, I know, don't live in the past, Jon. And I am trying.”_

“ _I would propose,” Arthur tried his hand at lifting the mood, shifting Ghost over into Jon's lap, smiling when arms immediately got wrapped around the ever silent pup. “That you focus on Daenerys, instead of drowning in what ifs concerning Viserys. She is still there, she is safe and one day you will indeed be able to meet her. Viserys is in a better place now, hopefully reunited with his mother, with his father in a better frame of mind, with Rhaegar. The only thing we can do for Viserys is to one day bring his bones home, Griff knows where he is burried.”_

“ _That's a nice thought,” Jon told him with a smile then and leaned against him, “bringing his bones home. Give him a place in the crypt. Pa, do you think we could get a gift to Daenerys?”_

“ _I don't see why not,” Arthur shrugged his shoulders, “Jace will surely find a way, and if all else fail we'd have to wait until Captain Martin anchors in the harbor again. Why, what are you thinking of?”_

“ _Can I have one of Rhaegar's rubies?” Jon surprised him with the request and Arthur blinked at him, when they had gone through Rhaegar's few belongings together down in the dungeons, Jon had insisted on him keeping the rubies._

_'I have the cloak, I have the locket, I have my eyes set on the sword. The rest should be yours.'_

“ _I think it might be a wonderful idea to turn one of them into a necklace,” Jon spoke over his silence as if he thought he needed more convincing, but Arthur was just too stunned over the idea. And honestly, he tended to forget about the rubies often enough, too. They symbolized Rhaegar's death too much, at least for him. “So that Daenerys might have something of Rhaegar's, too.”_

“ _It's a beautiful plan,” Arthur took the worry away that had been growing in his son's eyes and he squeezed the boy's shoulder. “And I have no doubt that the smith's woman down in the village will be creating something perfect again.”_

_She had already outdone herself with preserving the dried winter rose that Jon had unknown to Arthur brought down from Winterfell into a locket that Jon had gifted him not a four days ago._

“ _We'll look ahead, okay? And one day, we'll get justice for Viserys, too. And bring Daenerys home.”_

“ _Yeah, we will.”_

_**Flashbackend** _

And now she was standing right there, as beautiful as Rhaella, her smile so warm and so kind and so much her mother. And around her neck, Daenerys was wearing the golden pendant with Rhaegar's ruby.

“Daenerys, I'd like to introduce you to Jon's family,” Griff began once they had stopped and Arthur snapped himself out of the past again, throwing Aurane a quick look when he knocked their hips together. “Prince Oberyn Martell. Ser Benjen Stark. Captain Martin Sand. Ser Barristan Selmy.” One by one the men inclined their heads and Daenerys curtsied to Oberyn and gave the others a smile, she seemed like an exceptionally graceful girl. “And then Captain Aurane Velaryon, and the Lady Arya Stark.” Aurane bowed as little as he could while holding Arya and Arya at least didn't stick her tongue out, Arthur counted that as a win as Griff turned to him. “And of course, Ser Arthur Dayne.”

“It's a joy to finally meet you, Princess,” Arthur said with a smile as he bowed, “and I'm sure you have heard this before but you look a lot like your mother.” She looked incredibly like Rhaella. And also like the portraits of Queen Naerys, though Daenerys certainly looked happier and healthier than Aegon the Unworthy's queen.

“I am happy to meet you as well, Ser Arthur. Griff has told me you knew my brother better than anyone,” Daenerys told him and Arthur was compelled to look at Griff but his gaze wasn't met, the words something he would have never expected from him. “I was wondering if when a moment arrives for it, you might tell me some about him.”

“I will be looking forward to it, Princess.”

“Come on, Arya,” Aurane saved him from getting too emotional for the dozenth time on this day, “let's show Griff and the Princess to their seats and then find ours.” His words were met with the flap of a wing when Rhaegal swung so very low one more time. “I am beginning to regret that I might have had a hand in turning that dragon into a cat,” Aurane mumbled before motioning for Griff and Daenerys to walk ahead. He leaned in still to steal a kiss from Arthur which Arya commented on with a “gross”. Oberyn vowed to find the older brothers who were so very central to what was to transpire soon and walked off as well, Martin followed him with a chuckle and Benjen said his goodbyes to find and guard Andric, leaving Arthur behind with Barristan.

And a young man approaching them with a gentle smile whom Arthur hadn't expected at all.

“Willas,” he called out quite dumbfounded when the new Lord of Highgarden and hence Warden of the South stretched out a hand. “I don't recall seeing your name on the guest list.” For good reason, Arthur's mind decided to remind him, Jon had certainly wanted more friends to be there for this day but he had also argued the loudest over the risk being too great. The Northerners. The Crownlanders and Willas and his brother Garlan. After this day, it would have been a dangerous journey home.

“No one at home knows I'm here except for my brother,” Willas explained and he looked maybe a little tired which could probably be written down to the no doubt hasty journey he made. Overall he seemed lighter, less burdened. “Just thought I'd be a good surprise. And a better way to hand over Highgarden's coronation gift in person.”

“Highgarden's gift?” Barristan repeated the words to fish for clarification and Willas smiled, Arthur didn't want to overthink anything but there was really only one thing Willas would insist on handing over in person.

“Highgarden's loyalty to the new King. Not yet the Reach but...”

“It's more than we could have ever asked for,” Arthur quickly interrupted though and exchanged a smile with Barristan, “we highly respect this, Willas, and if Jon hasn't already said so let me assure you that everything will be done to assure you a safe journey home.”

“If I make it past the border, I'll be fine,” Willas waved it away but Arthur would insist on it, “if trouble arises I'll just drop in on the first keep for a surprise visit.” He had a good heart, the right head, the right courage and determination and ideas that were on the same length as Jon's.

These two would change Westeros quite on their own already.

“Barristan, would you be so kind to find Willas a seat? I want to make one last round.”

\--

“Are you ready?”

Jon chuckled and smoothed down his cloak one more time before he looked to Doran and Andric who had been waiting for him at the beginning of the long staircase that led down to the square, on which other end the Sept of Sunspear was situated. Andric was carrying Maekar's Crown, laid out on a pillow and covered in a silken black cloth. Doran watched how Jon straightened his shoulders and nodded.

“I think so.”

Armor clinked as the Kingsguard got into formation on the staircase, only Torrhen remained at Jon's side.

“Alright, then you won't mind me having one last moment with you?” Doran wanted to know and was glad when Jon shook his head, Andric and Torrhen took some steps back, as did Areo and Benjen. “There is a lot to come in the next weeks, and moons.”

“I won't be alone in it,” Jon responded easily enough and Doran didn't even know anymore if he was calming his own nerves or the ones he had seen in the boy. “I have people to council me and soldiers to fight alongside me. Doran,” and Jon hesitated for a moment, took a step closer even still so he could lower his voice even more, “thank you for everything you have taught me.”

“Oh, my boy,” Doran sighed and raised a hand to cup Jon's face on one side, “it was a joy for me. I am so proud of you, Jon, and I know that everything that will follow today... you'll be more than ready to face it. And I promise you that I'll still be there, listening.” Jon smiled at him, from above, and it was something that Doran still couldn't comprehend at times. How this boy who had needed help to get up onto a chair the first time he had sat in on a Council meeting was suddenly taller than him and so aware of the burden that was to come.

_**Flashback** _

“ _Doran, why did you agree with Lady Larra and not Lord Fowler?” Among the questions that had been spoken to him right after a Council session ended Jon's curious one had to rank among the harmless and most interesting ones. There was no disappointment in his boyish little voice, nor was there anger or exhaustion. It was simply just a question. Andric laughed as he left the room, having hung back after Council had ended to have their private five minutes of joined sighs and eye rolls._

_Areo closed the door and gave them silence._

“ _You don't understand my choices or you don't agree with them?” Doran wanted to know and met violet eyes that were burning with so many questions as always, that were so wise and smart beyond his years. Doran remembered easily how difficult it had been to get Arianne interested in matters of politics at that age but Jon just couldn't get enough._

“ _No, I do,” the boy told him and slipped down from the chair he had been sitting on at the side, observing and listening with rapt attention. Andric had turned up with Jon in tow and let the boy ask politely if he could sit in if he remained quiet. “I guess it's both though still. I just wanna know why you made the decision and how **you** came to it. See if it's the same way I took to get there.”_

“ _Alright, come over here.”_

_Jon grinned and hurried over, scrambling up on Andric's chair to sit on his knees so he could look upon the table._

“ _Now, this map you should recognize,” Doran began and pulled the map from the archives closer to Jon so the boy could see._

“ _That's the Prince's Pass,” Jon explained and pointed along the old route between the Reach and Dorne, “the seat of House Blackmont is here and that of House Fowler sits here.” He pointed out Blackmont and Skyreach._

_It was impressive in itself that he had recognized it so easily on an old map, Quentyn was not even able to read the old weathered writing on it._

“ _Very good. Now, I think you understood the issue that Lady Larry raised before me today but let me explain it once more.” Doran dived into the tax issues and the honors of responsibilities, explained history and emphasized the complicating matters of old grudges. Jon could grasp the first two very well for his age, loved the third one unusually much but it was the fourth one that Doran could see was the problem at hand perhaps._

“ _Why can't people just move on?” Jon asked as half expected already once Doran was taking a breath. “Why is it so difficult for grown ups to let the past be the past?” It was a question that couldn't have been more symbolic coming from Lyanna Stark's Targaryen son and directed at Elia Martell's brother. “I understand that tradition is important and that family should always be important, too. It is for me as well. But... doesn't it make things so much more complicated? To sit on grudges that your fathers and mothers probably couldn't even really explain the origin of anymore?”_

“ _People can be stubborn, Jon. They don't always carry the ability to let old storms die,” Doran tried to explain as good as he could while knowing perfectly well that he struggled with it, too. Violet eyes glanced up to him and Jon looked so deep in thought. He wished the boy would never fall into the same trap, that he could carry this motivation into his manhood. Once he learned the truth of his blood, he would inherit several centuries full of ancestors who had held to grudges closer than to most of their wives._

“ _But at some point they should understand that it's time to look ahead and not back. Isn't that part of ruling fair, too?” Jon asked as blunt as he always was when curiosity burned stronger than manners did. “If you only ever look into the past and let tradition guide you, you'll never speak out the justice that is right.”_

“ _You're very right there,” Doran agreed with Jon and kept his eyes on him for a moment longer even as Jon turned back to look over the map and the other papers. He could get so very far, could become this great leader, it was so deep in his blood, so central in just who he was._

_What other boy this age had so many thoughts over justice?_

“ _It's a boulder every new Lord and Lady, every new Prince or King is standing before when they inherit their titles. See the new world around them change and keep up with it without losing sight of where they come from. I had to adjust to a new ruling House on the Iron Throne without forgetting who came before,” Jon's eyes were on him immediately again, “and what it meant to House Martell but I also can't just let past events dictate how I deal with them forever. History is important, Jon, you know that, but only ever...”_

“ _To teach us how others faced similar problems so we can draw our own conclusions.” Jon recited words that had Doran stunned, for he had heard them so many times before, from his mother, from his father. “Elion said that to me.”_

“ _Yeah,” Doran breathed out and took a moment, somehow reminded of teaching the same to Elia when she had been upset over something he couldn't remember anymore. “Just because something looks like a problem our ancestors faced, doesn't mean the same solution will work out. Grudges are and will always remain a part of politics, Jon. It's how you deal with them that determines how your justice will be seen. It's better to reward your allies than to punish your enemies too harshly.”_

“ _Strict but always fair,” Jon recited and nodded, smiling bright and innocent but also understanding before pointing to something Larra had scribbled down in the middle of the Council session. “Why was this so important?”_

_Doran laughed and leaned forward again to keep explaining his thought process that had led to him agreeing with Larra._

_**Flashbackend** _

As they turned now to get into formation and walk down the palace stairs, Doran didn't even know yet just how much his words had made an impression on a young boy who would in not even a year to come struggle with just that message himself and realize just how deep grudges could run.

'It's better to reward your allies than to punish your enemies too harshly.'

For now, he accepted Areo's supporting hand on the way down the steps and tried not to laugh over the fact that he was fighting against nerves and Jon appeared so calm and steady.

\--

“ _You know we can't always choose who we love.”_

She hated herself for the memory popping up in her head as she stood to watch the coronation ceremony begin among her family. She watched how Jon descended the grand stairs of the castle framed by white cloaked Kingsguard Knights. It was a picture that should have taken sole attention in her mind, maybe with half a thought passed on to Sonara behaving herself but in truth her mind was spinning and the only thought she could hold onto were her grandfather had spoken to her during the tourney.

A few days after Aegon of Tyrosh had crowned her Princess of Love and Beauty. _His_ Princess of Love and Beauty.

It was bad taste to be thinking of him while Jon was walking towards one of the greatest moments of his life so far and Rhaena's mind should be on him. In the here and now. On Jon's bright smile as the smallfolk cheered already as he passed by them. On Torrhen's proud watchful eyes as he followed Jon's steps, right hand on the hilt of his sword. On her uncles and their various important roles. On her family and the importance of this day for not just them but all of Dorne.

It was a moment for history as three fire-breathing dragons watched a Targaryen walk through the crowd towards the red carpet laid out over the steps of the Sept. And there she was, standing between her mother and Barristan on one side and Aunt Ally and Uncle Benjen on the other, wearing her best dress, thinking of the enemy.

“ _Your mother always fell fast and hard, too. And I can't say that I didn't make the same mistake before.”_

Her father's words came back to haunt her now and she smiled in a mix of true happiness and a mask to hide her thoughts behind. Her father wasn't here, he had chosen to remain on Driftmark and be there to protect his family if the immediate reaction of the Iron Throne to Jon's reveal and coronation included violence against the old Loyalists. As much as she knew he would have wanted to see an old friend's son get crowned, Rhaena was also glad her father wasn't around, he could have read her true thoughts off of her face without any trouble.

And he wouldn't have liked it.

“ _I'm not in love with Aegon of Tyrosh.”_

She wasn't, her words to her grandfather still held true but the simple truth was that she had fallen for the enemy after all.

“ _I'm not saying that you are, Rhaena, but I want to give you a warning that your heart might not even know yet what it really feels for that boy. He impressed you, I can see that much, he definitely made a lasting impression.”_

Her heart knew now and she hated it. She hated that she had apparently gained more from her parents' quirks than just the love of attention and the falling too hard for people part. She could fall for more than just one boy, it seemed. Because as much as she dreamed about Aegon and his foreign handsomeness and the flowers from his hands, she had also found herself laying awake more often than not while thinking about Jon.

She had fallen for not one but two dragons.

  
  


There was only one person who knew, only one person she had been brave enough to tell about it, or write it was better said. Alyssa. And her cousin and best friend had had simple direct words for her, that only one of those crushes was healthy and helpful and wouldn't lead to disaster. Rhaena wasn't so sure if Alyssa really had it worked out correctly, she understood perfectly well that Aegon was the enemy, that liking him couldn't go anywhere but Jon wasn't exactly the perfect other alternative.

In mere moments he was going to be crowned.

A rebellion would rise on this day.

And Jon would be the King at the helm of it all, a King who needed a Queen by his side at some point. And not a bastardborn one. She loved Jon like a brother and those other flights of fancy had to be choked out, she couldn't have him, regardless of how much maybe she would want him one day when her heart had finally made a decision. Alyssa, Sera Rogare, maybe even Princess Daenerys, all of them were perfect choices for Jon, and she would guide him in that direction even if it broke her heart in the end.

_**Flashback** _

“ _Are you angry with me?”_

_She had been sitting on that thought for so long already that it could have burst something in her if she hadn't finally found a chance to talk to Jon. Official as everything was now, he never was alone anymore, there was always one white cloak around, and it was seemingly never the one Rhaena could have tolerated to have this conversation next to, namely Holden._

_Her brother wouldn't have let her speak without voicing his own opinion and getting riled up over the whole topic again. Uncle Arthur would have been silent and remained calm but she knew he would have judged her for not just forgetting about the whole damn affair already. And Richard was a gossip._

“ _Why would I be angry with you?” Jon wanted to know and kept his eyes on the path ahead of them anyway. They were closing in on the Dornish border, would cross over it by sunset and people were relaxing again, probably for the first time since they had left Summerhall behind them. The Crownlanders had gone back home and only Robb and Domeric and their guards remained with them outside of the Dornish envoy still._

_Today, it was finally Holden who rode as Jon's protection. Her uncles were too busy talking with each other and rejoicing in soon being back in their homeland. Her mother was still in her clouds with Barristan and her brother had gone to hunt with Robb, Domeric, Quentyn and some other boys. And Tyene had taken a tumble last night during their rest so she wasn't riding and could interrupt, let alone overhear something she shouldn't._

“ _You know why,” Rhaena spoke it out without actually naming it and Holden sent her a look from Jon's left before letting his attention return to their surroundings. She hadn't yet gained a new personal guard but her brother had pinned Shadow to her side until Uncle Andric had handpicked candidates. “Because I don't think there is something to be angry about.”_

“ _If there is nothing to be angry about,” Jon began and finally looked at her, something haunted in his eyes that Rhaena couldn't understand, “then there shouldn't be a reason on why you should ask me.” And that answer was certainly open to interpretation but it wasn't a flat out no._

“ _I... I got drawn in by him,” Rhaena explained despite the lack of prompt given, she didn't dare speak the name though. Jon would only deem one Aegon of being worthy to be mentioned in his presence right now and that one had never had a chance to have a life, let alone flirt with girls. “He had charme and he was funny, he was kind. Kind to a bastard girl who had only wanted to enjoy her first grand tourney. I know that I shouldn't have slipped away from Holden.”_

“ _Damn right.”_

“ _And I know how meeting him again while I was all alone looks but I didn't consider you to be among those I have to argue about this with, too.” She made her point and then felt terrible when Jon's eyes landed on her face again, hardened. “If I had known who he was before, I wouldn't have dared to even risk meeting him again. I wouldn't have dared to give him the impression that he could crown me.”_

“ _You sure?”_

_And that question hurt._

_It hurt because it was true._

“ _Just be honest,” Jon asked of her and it was genuine curiosity mixed with anger in him, he never would judge someone too quick. “Just be honest, Rae.”_

“ _I don't know,” she told him hence and it didn't hurt as much to admit it as she would have thought, “I don't know, Jon.” She thought back to the preserved flower crown packed away among her belongings in her chest, about how it hadn't crossed her mind to throw it away for longer than a split second._

“ _Thank you,” Jon said and she knew he meant her honesty, “I'm not angry with you, Rhaena, maybe consider that other people are struggling with what their hearts were telling them, too.” Jon mused out loud more than he spoke it directly at her and then he gifted her a barely there smile still before urging his horse on and riding up to Uncle Arthur and Uncle Aurane, the latter of whom was laughing loudly over something that Arya was pointing towards, sitting in front of Aurane._

_She saw how Jon loosened up immediately upon riding between his fathers, how his tense shoulders smoothed away to shaking in laughter._

“ _Rae?”_

_She looked up at Holden who had ridden closer and whispered her name._

“ _Forget about Aegon. He wouldn't be good for you, he would only turn you into a trophy for this war that is to come. And even if by some miracle his feelings were genuine, then his family would do it for him,” Holden reasoned with her and quickly reached over when Rhaena looked away from him. He gently squeezed her wrist until she once more looked his way. “There are boys in Dorne, in Westeros, who are only waiting for you to look their way. Boys who aren't at the center of the enemy. Boys who could be good for you, who could make you happy.”_

_And then he gave her a warm smile still before riding on to catch up with Jon._

_**Flashbackend** _

There was a war coming for them once the Iron Throne knew about this day but Rhaena knew now more than ever that there was a war within her heart approaching as well. And she didn't know if any side winning might turn out so well for her, though one side would at least gain her understanding and the gentle comforting support of her family and friends. The other could leave her standing alone, all alone.

She watched how Jon reached the top of the stairs and knelt down on the pillow before the Septon, Doran and Andric taking their places in the background for now, the Kingsguard assembling around them. Torrhen and Richard some steps to the left and right of the Septon, their backs to the Sept. Holden and Luca at the bottom of the stairs, facing the crowd. Milo some steps above them, facing his King. And Uncle Arthur down on one knee behind Jon, awaiting the blessing of the Septon as well.

She saw how this wave of happiness and bliss and hope rolled over the crowd, from highborn to lowborn to smallfolk, and she wanted so badly to get swept away in it, too. To forget about the struggles within her. She saw the shimmering tears of happiness in the faces of the people who had once stood by Rhaegar Targaryen's side. Her Ma, Barristan, Connington. She saw the glimmering tears of memories flooding Uncle Benjen's face. She saw the pride in Aurane. She saw the honor of being able to witness this day in Oberyn and Elion, in Larra and Lord Yronwood. She saw the joy in Tyene, Arianne and Nym. She saw the giddy excitement in Elia, Arya, Edric and her younger cousins.

She wanted to join them.

But every time she loosened the hold on her heart to let it beat freely, she saw Aegon's smile in her mind again and became too busy banishing him from these celebrations. Jon deserved more.

Up above the Sept, Starfyre had perched himself carefully upon the stone bricks, and to the side Sonara and Rhaegal had landed on the unmanned battlements. The wolves had reappeared, all six. Shadow barely visible from the shadowy corner of the Sept's pillared roundabout. Ghost appearing like the chosen seventh Kingsguard as he seated himself halfway between Milo and Uncle Arthur, tall and proud and watching. Nymeria looping through the people until she joined Arya and Aurane in the row before Rhaena.

The wolves of Benjen's children had made a loose circle around their family.

Everyone here was playing their part in making this day the joyous and wonderful occasion that it was, only she couldn't get her head on right.

The Septon of Sunspear spoke his prayers and his sermon, spoke to the Seven to grant their blessings upon Jon and Uncle Arthur to fulfill their roles with honor, justice and wisdom. He prayed for strength and courage in the wars to come, blessed the soldiers who would ride out for Jon and for Dorne to unite Westeros under a dragon banner once more.

And then the crowd fell into silence as the Septon reached for the holied oil and anointed Jon under the names of the Seven as the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms, anointed him as a Targaryen King. The hush over Sunspear fell even deeper when after exchanging some words with Jon, the Septon reached up and waited until Starfyre headed Jon's inner word and swung his head down, and she could just then for a second forget her personal drama as this Septon who didn't fear anything anointed a dragon for their Dragon King.

“May the Seven protect you on your path, Prince Jaehaerys,” the Septon spoke up loudly then so everyone could hear him once more, “May the Seven bless your people and the war you will lead to regain your throne. May the Warrior and the Smith protect you. May the Father and the Crow hold their wisdom and justice over you. May the Mother guide your heart. May the Maiden shield your innocence. May the Stranger show mercy for years to come.”

The crowd repeated the last blessing and she mumbled along as well.

If only she knew that by picking Aegon she could convince him to forget about Westeros, leave her family in peace and let them find their happiness somewhere else. Wouldn't that make everything easier and keep her family and especially Jon forever safe. But it was impossible, a risk too great to take, this storm in her heart, it was better kept forever secret.

\--

By the time the Septon stepped back, Doran felt like he had had enough breathing time to no longer feel like a greenboy.

'I have never had someone from my House be crowned a King in my Lordship.' Andric had said that to him last night when they had knocked back a cup of the strongest stuff Doran had had on his shelf and Doran had given a hoarse laugh over his best friend's worry.

'I'll be the first Prince of Dorne to crown a Targaryen. Quite sure somewhere in her deep grave Meria Martell is spinning.'

“My people,” he called out as he stepped forward, Jon remained kneeling, only Arthur stood now and turned to guard his King. “My friends, my family. We have gathered today to crown a new Targaryen King. To crown a young dragon who will set out into the realm and reconquer what was lost. What was lost and taken from one of our own. Fifteen years have passed since my sister and her children were butchered by the Old Lion. Fifteen years since the heir to the throne got murdered in cold blood to make room for the Usurper. He watched their blood dry on the steps of the Iron Throne as he took it without right.”

The people voiced their agreement, voiced their displeasure and he let this wave sweep the crowds.

“Today that injustice will end. Today our reckoning will begin as we crown one of our own. As we crown this young dragon who was born and raised in Dorne, in our home. His blood may not be Dornish but he is.” He glanced down to Jon who just then looked up to him, sent him a smile, eyes a little teary. “He is a son of Dorne. And he will be our Son of Dorne on the Iron Throne!” The people cheered, from highborn to lowborn, calming only when Starfyre roared. “He will be our King. And Dorne will no longer stand in the shadows. We will step into the light and fight for our King, we will fight until Jaehaerys Targaryen sits the Iron Throne, and our spears and our swords will be blessed in fire and blood.”

Doran begged Andric closer and pulled the black fabric off Maekar's crown, everything got so very quiet.

“As the Gods and Dorne stand witness before us, I now proclaim you, Jaehaerys of House Targaryen, the Third of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm!”

He set the crown upon the boy's head and it was him who paused then, taking a deep breath while his fingers still touched the crown, his thumbs resting on Jon's temples. Jon's eyes flickered up to meet his and he smiled, nerves replaced by confidence and Doran smiled back at him, having only wanted this last moment. He let go and took a step back, watched how Jon stood up and then turned around to face his people, and they were his people, they weren't just Doran's alone anymore.

And he was Jon's man, too.

He had protected a child like he would have wished he could have done for his siblings. He had taught him, watched him learn, given him advice, been sought out for advice.

Doran had longed all his life to have Dorne be recognized by the crown, to be respected finally, to gain the influence on matters of the realm they deserved. He knew even more that as much as he would haveliked to see Rhaegar on the throne with Elia at his side, his goodbrother could have forgotten about them just as fast again. And his nephew might have held Dorne in his blood but he would have grown up in the bitterness of King's Landing and the harshness of Dragonstone, he would have been a King with Dornish blood but never a Dornish one.

He would have given everything to see Rhaegar, Elia and the children alive but the past was the past, and Jon was the future. He was the son of Dorne Doran was going to see on the Iron Throne, knowing that Jon would never forget where he came from.

“Long may he reign.”

His call got echoed by the crowd.

“Long may he reign!”

And above them three dragons roared.

A hundred and fourty years after the Young Dragon had invaded Dorne's borders to conquer them, another young dragon was setting out to lead Dorne's war for the dragons out of its borders into the realm.

“Son of Dorne! Son of Dorne! Son of Dorne!”

\--

Once the grand speeches were done and the wine and the ale began to flow, Jon took the first moment he could find and pulled Elion onto one of the balconies of the great hall. He shushed his father away with a laugh and then turned to the man who had been so much more than just a grandfather with a grin.

“I will get this done now,” Jon began and Elion gave a heartfelt laugh, both of them remembering how bloody difficult it had turned out to get a moment alone since their last private conversation in the forest outside the tourney. “And if there is an armada settling in the bay, they will just have to _wait_.” Again and again someone had interrupted them before Jon had been able to get his moment and he was fed up with it.

If this continued on, he would sit the throne before he ever had a chance to ask Elion to join him in King's Landing.

“You know,” Elion mentioned with a chuckle but still set his wine down on the small table in the corner, Jon hadn't touched a single cup all evening yet. “We don't have to turn this into a big conversation, or put ceremonies around it. I'm so proud of you, my boy.” Jon smiled as the hands came up to frame his face. “We have a lot of work ahead of us but I know that at the end of it you're gonna sit on that throne and finally set things right.”

“With you by my side,” Jon blurted it out then, simply got it out without any fancy wrappings, “with you by my side as my Hand.” He fumbled around in his pockets until he found the pin that he had gotten made by a smith in the Torrentine village outside Starfall, even before they had set out for Storm's End. “You taught me so much, Elion. You've been so much more than just grandfather and mentor, and I've taken every lesson of yours to heart but I'll keep needing your advice. Will you be my Hand?”

“Nothing would make me happier, Jon.” Elion answered him with a chuckle and he was about to go down on one knee but Jon quickly reached out and stopped him.

“No,” he said and Elion raised his eyebrows, “I could barely stomach it when Oberyn did it in Summerhall but you won't. Not to me, not if I can help it.” And he shook his head right along when Elion made to say something. “The Dornish don't kneel. I don't want to see that changed.” Elion smiled then, all soft again and Jon turned his eyes away to chase away the desire to choke up.

Instead he fastened the pin to Elion's doublet.

And then it was done.

Simple. Easy. No grand declarations. Just like it had been meant to happen.

“How does it feel?”

Elion laughed upon his question and reached up to gently pat his cheek, “like I can continue making sure no one twists your wonderful perfect heart, my boy. And just realizing that I am looking at six moons of shared Regency with Arthur Dayne who is very much too happy to pretend that fact doesn't exist.” Jon snorted and turned to watch the people celebrate. His Pa was laughing with one arm around Aurane, Arya leaning back at him, grinning up at them and Benjen. Not far from them Jon could see Willas dancing with Daenerys, the only one who had approached her over it so far. Elion had a point over his Pa though, he truly was ignoring the whole Regency fact, mostly because he didn't want to see the chapter on Jon's childhood close, but also because Arthur Dayne really wanted nothing to do with politics.

“That time will pass quick enough,” he brushed it off and it would, six moons would run away like nothing as they prepared for war. And then he would be off age and no one would be responsible for his decisions anymore but him alone. “I promise to not do something stupid until then.”

“You got your council figured out then?”

“Lucerys said yes. Pa obviously said yes. Connington has so far only agreed to the war council but I'll get him buttered up enough for the small council position yet,” Jon revealed and grinned, Elion rolled his eyes, his eyes flittering over the laughing and dancing crowd as well. “I have a Hand. I have a Kingsguard. A war council is in the makings. I got a master-of-ships, Aurane and Talion Sand are working on assembling a fleet. I'll send Oberyn to the Citadel to keep him occupied until we actually go to war,” that prompted Elion to burst out laughing even stronger, “and to find me a capable future Grand Maester. I need to talk to Ashara still and make it official. And there is the whole matter with Lord Stannis, which I think I might let Corlyn handle for me.”

“We've got our work cut out for ourselves then,” Elion mentioned and pulled Jon into a hug, something that Jon gladly relaxed into. “I'm so proud of you. It's gonna be a long journey now but we won't leave you alone in it. You hear me? King or no King, you can still come to me with everything. There is no burden too great to rest on my shoulders.” Overwhelmed again, Jon just managed to nod, hoping that Elion would feel it. “Okay, but work starts tomorrow. Tonight we celebrate.”

“What a timing then,” Tyene announced as she rounded onto the balcony, glowing indigo dress shimmering in the darker light. “I was just looking for our charming King to weasel him into the dance he promised me.”

\--

“You're not scared, are you?” Jon asked with a fond chuckle when Arya slipped her hand in his as they finally left the crowded and boisterous halls of celebration behind. People were dancing, drinking and laughing and it had gotten to a point where even Jon as the center of all attention could slip away for a bit. Tyene and Ghost having assured that no one would see him grab Arya and push her into the corridor at the back of the feasting hall.

“Course not, stupid,” Arya mumbled but a glance down to her showed Jon that she was eyeing the darkness of the corridors a little hesitantly. It was the middle of the night, it was pitch black outside almost, only the moon and the stars giving some light. Jon wasn't bothered by the lack of light, he knew Sunspear well enough to walk around its corridors and walkways with his eyes closed but for Arya this was the first trip to Dorne's ruling city, everything was still unfamiliar.

He squeezed Arya's hand and pulled her a little closer, she was the only one he wanted around for this moment that was to come. His heart was guiding him down corridors and up and down stairs until they reached the outer walls of the city towards the sea side. The streets here were empty, the smallfolk was celebrating on the Sept square, music and laughter could be heard distantly but that wasn't where Jon wanted to go, it was the beach.

The guards looked up as their steps could be heard on the cobble stones and one stepped forward but froze when the light of the torch at his side must have revealed just who was approaching them.

“Your Grace,” the man began and exchanged a fleeting look with his fellow guard companion, Jon had taken off the crown once the festivities had begun but these men would of course recognize his face. “We have had clear instructions from our Prince to keep the gates closed. And I cannot possibly let His Grace walk unguarded...” Jon elbowed Arya when he sensed how she was going to speak up, knowing it would be a comment or two what she would do to people who wanted to harm Jon.

As adorable as it was, it would only make these men smile.

Not because she was a girl, but because she was a child still. One day, his little cousin was going to be a formidable warrior, maybe when Dawn wasn't taller than her anymore.

“I assure you...” but Jon got interrupted right away by a voice coming from a dark corner of an entrance to a servant's staircase leading up to the castle. He jumped and then scowled.

“His Grace is not unguarded,” Torrhen mentioned with a brief glare thrown in Jon's direction, white cloak fluttering in the mild breeze coming in from the sea, three wolves followed him coming out of the staircase. “And as far as I am concerned your orders state to keep people from entering the city walls. Uninvited people.”

“Yes, Ser.”

“So if the King wishes to visit the dragons on the night of his coronation, I believe that can be arranged, can it not?” Torrhen pressed a little, playing fully into the authority that the white cloak now gave him. Jon thought that his cousin was enjoying it a little too much maybe. “I will guard His Grace and young Lady Stark, but I would sincerely wish to see the fools thinking about an attack when three wolves and three dragons are surrounding us.”

The guard sighed but then turned around and walked to the gate, unlocking the mechanisms keeping it closed and then opened it with a metallic screech. The wolves looped out first, Jon and Arya followed with a “Thank you” that Jon directed at both guards who were in the end only doing their duty. He waited until Torrhen had given the guards a call sign and then followed them as well, but no one was speaking until the gate was closed again and they had put a good distance between them and the city wall.

“You didn't exactly think you can go anywhere alone now, you idiot?” Torrhen asked and Jon let go of Arya only long enough to punch Torrhen in the arm. “I see, already developed an attitude after not even a day of wearing the crown.”

“You're an asshole,” Jon commented, prompting Arya to laugh and then dash forward to join the wolves trotting down the narrow path down to the beach. “I took my sword. I'm going down to the dragons, what do you think will get to me through Starfyre's flames?”

“An arrow,” Torrhen deadpanned and then went back to looking around, “this is how Arthur must have felt whenever Rhaegar wanted to slip out into the night. Utterly fucking paranoid.”

“Rhaegar neither had a direwolf, nor a dragon big enough to set half a village on fire with one breath,” Jon argued back and then smiled when bodies shifted on the beach in front of them and two smaller heads popped up behind Starfyre's back, the biggest dragon only opened his eyes. “And if you're coming at me with Starfyre's peaceful nature... he's never seen me threatened. And Sonara is fire excited enough to burn everything in sight if it just looks wrong.”

  
“Don't remind me,” Torrhen grouched, he had lost his horse after he had pissed Rhaena off some weeks ago. “I wish Jace good luck in finding guards for Rhaena. They'd have to be Sonara approved before Rhaena gets her say.” Jon laughed and then they had reached the dragon, the cold of the night got diminished as the heat of these fire breathing wonders washed over them. “What was so important anyway that you needed to see them now?”

“Something a long time overdue,” Jon answered Torrhen's puzzled question and waved Arya over where she was still standing with the wolves who had stopped the respectful distance away. Shadow and Sonara were in many regards like their human counterparts, they loved each other as much as they fought passionately with each other every other day, at least Sonara had thankfully not tried to roast Shadow yet. Ghost didn't seem to know how to deal with Starfyre three times bigger yet, cautious in approaching an old friend still, but Rhaegal and him got along splendidly. The green dragon was the cuddliest out of the trio anyway, way more prone to seek out people to get some attention.

Jon supposed that it was grounded on the dragon knowing that the person he had bonded with wouldn't be around for years to come anymore. Aemon had remained in Starfall, he was doing well considering his age, had even slightly improved once no longer surrounded by everlasting cold, but long travels and excitement wasn't something for him anymore, but Jon knew the old man was with him in thoughts in these days.

“Come on, Arry, or are you saying no now?” Jon wondered but Arya shook her head and come running over, Torrhen realized what was going on just then and looked entirely unimpressed that he had to witness this. He didn't say anything though, knowing he would speak against walls, instead he threw up his hands and then walked to stand with the wolves. Jon chuckled to himself and patted Starfyre's back. “You too tired, my boy?” Starfyre's only answer was a flick of his tail. “Good.”

Jon picked Arya up and swung her up high onto Starfyre's back, or at least as high as he could reach, letting her climb the rest by herself, only keeping a keen eye on her progress to catch her if she might slip up. Once Arya was sitting with wide eyes, Jon threw a look at Starfyre's bored expression.

“Little help for me? We've been waiting long enough for this, haven't we?”

And dreamt about it often enough that it felt like he had done it before, even if he never had.

Starfyre sighed and then swung his head around, nudging at Jon's leg so he raised a foot and then let himself be swung up high. He wrapped arms around Arya and pulled her close, got comfortable himself and then exchanged one last look with Torrhen who still looked quite unimpressed but also understanding, it had to have begun one day.

“Starfyre, soves.”

A rug. A tug. Starfyre shifted until he could get his siblings off of his right wing and then shuffled around some more until he was facing the water.

“Last chance to get down,” Jon whispered down in Arya's ear but she shook his head, even if her small hands clung to his arms. He grinned into her hair and then up at the nightsky as Starfyre spread his wings and then pushed off from the ground.

And everything felt like a dream come true.

Felt like hundreds of dreams finally be real.

The wind in his hair and the sky and the stars so close, Sunspear so small below them. Arya was laughing but kept on holding onto Starfyre's spiked scales while Jon spread out his arms and cried out in joy.

“Thank you!” Arya called out to him when he was done and Jon laughed, wrapped his arms around her and watched the ships appear like toys beneath them. The Pride of the Sea, suddenly looking like just one of the ships Edric had collected when he had been younger. “I will never forget this.”

“Me neither,” Jon promised Arya in turn and grinned into her hair, thinking back to the moment where he had not only revealed to her who he was but also made this very promise.

_**Flashback** _

_They had to stop halfway to Summerhall from Storm's End because a wagon's wheel broke and Jon used the unplanned break to steal himself away with Arya for the conversation that was overdue now. He knew in his heart that upon laying eyes on Summerhall he would no longer be able to wait until being back home to speak his intentions, to call it out into the world._

_And Arya needed to know the truth about him before, she deserved more than to stand confused as he talked about crowns and wars._

_He only informed his Pa, Aurane and Torrhen to not have them worry and then took Arya, Nymeria and Ghost a little deeper into the forest they were stuck in for now with the Dornish envoy and their couple Northern friends as Robb and Domeric had chosen accompany Arya to Dorne to get their chance at travelling through Westeros. The Crownlanders would sail to Griffin's Roost and then meet them in Summerhall, just for appearance's sake._

_Ghost and Nymeria skidded off into the trees when Jon asked Arya to stop, sat her down on a fallen over tree and knelt onto the ground himself._

“ _You're probably really confused right now,” Jon began and Arya nodded, a scowl on her face, “I promise I'll make it quick and then things are making sense again. I need to tell you some things and I also have to apologize to you.”_

“ _Why?” Arya wanted to know, “you didn't do anything,” he argued and Jon grimaced because that was the whole point of it. He had wanted to protect her, had wanted her to grow up just a little more until he revealed this secret to her, it was just a matter of bad timing that he finally got the chance only days out from this secret no longer being needed to be kept hidden._

“ _Arry, I've been keeping something from you. It was never meant to be forever and I never wanted to hurt you by keeping something secret from you, okay?” He started it off and Arya nodded, eyes going wide. “I'm just gonna make it blunt. Your aunt Lyanna was my mother but your uncle Arthur... he isn't really my father, not in blood. Do you understand what that means?”_

“ _It means that someone else got your mama with child,” Arya told him and Jon smiled up at her, nodding. “Who is your father then, Jon?”_

“ _His name was Rhaegar Targaryen,” Jon spoke the words out loud and Arya's mouth popped open again. “He was the prince who was said to have kidnapped your Aunt Lyanna. You remember your lessons? It was why so many people went to fight a war against the Targaryens.” It wasn't really the whole picture but as smart as Arya was, she was also still a child and there was time until she had to learn the not so child approved version of what had caused the Targaryens to fall. “That war ended with the Targaryens losing the Iron Throne and almost all of them died. Except for Prince Rhaegar's siblings who fled to Essos. And me. Who was hidden away by your Uncle Arthur. He said I was his son to keep me safe.”_

“ _Because the King doesn't like dragons,” Arya showed that she understood far better what was going on around her than Uncle Ned might believe. “Is that why you didn't tell me before? Because I could say something on accident and then the King would know?” And thank the gods for her quick mind._

“ _Yes,” Jon agreed and tapped a finger against her chin, glad to see her smile and not get upset, “The first time we met, you were still so small and I needed to be careful. If the King learns of this, he will be very angry.”_

“ _And he'll want to hurt Uncle Arthur.”_

_Yeah, she definitely noticed far more than people expected._

“ _Exactly. And we couldn't let that happen. But I'm telling you now because you're old enough to keep a secret, because you're coming with us to Dorne and everyone there knows. And because soon I will make sure that everyone knows. Do you think a crown will fit me?” Jon wanted to know and Arya quickly nodded with a thick grin lighting up her whole face again. “Thank you. And when we get to Dorne there are some special friends I'd like you to meet.”_

“ _Mexes!”_

“ _Yes,” Jon laughed, thinking to the loyal friend who would probably still outlive him for long if Darwin was right. “Meraxes for sure. But there are two others I will introduce to you.” Maybe three, he added only in his mind, heart squeezing again and reaching for something that was so far away still._

_'Come back. Come back please. We no longer have to hide now.'_

_He had been praying nothing else for two days now._

_'Come back to me. I need you.'_

“ _Their names are Sonara and Rhaegal. They're dragons, real dragons.” He explained and held up a hand rather fast when Arya made to say something, her eyes blinking at him, “Sonara belongs to Rhaena and she's got a temper so we're gonna keep our distance probably unless is there with us.” Jon still needed to talk to Rhaena about getting Sonara calmed down, it couldn't go on like this, problem was only that he didn't know how to talk to Rhaena at the moment, not since those flowers and those meetings with Aegon of bloody Tyrosh, not since that flower crown Rhaena had packed like a treasure. “Rhaegal is sweet though, he belongs to Maester Aemon, you'll meet him to.”_

“ _You don't have a dragon?”_

“ _I do,” Jon waved her adorable concern away. “His name is Starfyre but he is older than the other two. Bigger. Far bigger. I had to sent him away to keep this secret, to protect us all. But he'll come back, he'll come back when I need him.” And then something popped into his mind that had him grin, locking eyes with his favourite cousin. “And when he's back, I promise you I'll take you flying. You and me, that first flight, it'll be just you and me.”_

_Arya squealed and threw herself down into his arms, and Jon laughed when the wolves descended on them as well._

_**Flashbackend** _

After a good while Jon guided Starfyre down to the beach again to land and it went smoother than he would have expected. He saw how Torrhen heaved a deep breath and then walked to Starfyre's side, patting a rumbling neck before holding out his arms for Arya to slide into. Jon managed to get down on his own.

“Was it as impressive as it looked?” Torrhen wanted to know with a smirk when Jon turned to face him, Arya skipping on to stroke Starfyre where his nostrils had smoother scales. The dragon closed his eyes and relaxed back into sleep, his siblings crowding back around him.

“It was...” Jon struggled to find the words for an answer and grinned when another white cloak appeared from the darkness of the path, his father with Aurane following behind, both of them with wide eyes. “It was all dreams coming true in one moment. There is no way to describe that feeling.”

“So definitely different than falling from the harbor wall?”

“Oh, fuck off, Torre,” Jon snarled at Torrhen laughing himself silly then and walked around him to meet his father on the beach. “Sorry, it was a promise I just had to keep.” He looked over to Arya giggling as Starfyre blew warm air at her, toppling her over with the gentlest push. “And it's not like you hadn't seen this coming.”

“Honestly,” his father surprised him with his calm, throwing a look to Starfyre himself, one eye slowblinked at him. The color hadn't changed, Jon's dragon still shared eyes with his father. “Seeing you fly settled something in me that I was so terrified of. You're no warrior, and knowing you in a battle, it was giving me nightmares. But on that dragon? He'll burn everything that could hurt you.”

“Says the Dornishman whose ancestors took down Queen Rhaenys and her dragon,” Aurane mumbled but smiled anyway when Arya came running over.

“That's a Dornish secret everyone here will take to their graves,” Jon's Pa snarked right back and Jon snorted, leaning back against Torrhen when he came to stand behind him. “And it's hardly gonna be a risk against Jon. There is no bigger dragon than Starfyre left in existence, there is nothing that could harm these two once they're in the sky. Let me have some relief.”

\--

When a new dawn rose over Sunspear, most people had long since retired, Jon though still felt wide awake and had sought out on of the balconies of the palace that overlooked the sea. He watched the stars disappear in the light of a new day, smiled at the sunrise and the warmth that it brought along.

“Go to bed, Rich, I've got him,” Torrhen's voice was the first thing that broke through the long silence that Jon had enjoyed so much. “I'll see to it that he'll get some rest soon, too.” Jon rolled his eyes but heard how Richard sighed and walked off, Torrhen though came to stand right next to him, handing over half of a pealed blood orange.

“Where have you been? I haven't seen you in hours.” Jon mentioned without taking his eyes off of the calm sea. “Please don't tell me that you've sought out...”

“I was sleeping,” Torrhen deadpanned and bit into into half of fruit, Jon snickered and likewise chose food over further conversation for the moment. It was in a way good to know though that even after finally wearing white, Torrhen still wouldn't change. Girls still made eyes at him and he still didn't always say no. It was familiar, it was good. He just hoped Torrhen would be twice as careful now, he knew a child wasn't the end of the world for a Kingsguard Knight, as long as they could keep it secret.

Milo was the best example.

But they didn't have to tempt fate so soon into his reign.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Something you told me after Summerhall,” Jon said quietly and grimaced at his sticky hand, Torrhen pulled out a napkin while he chose to lick his fingers clean. “It's... I'm wondering if this is how Rhaegar felt after my Pa got sworn into the Kingsguard. Still the bestest of friends but something would now also be always different.”

_**Flashback** _

“ _Do you think we'll get the chance to be just us again? To just be two friends wanting a moment alone?” Jon wondered and didn't take his eyes off of the stars in the clear nightsky, one more day of riding and they would reach Starfall. Plans had shifted again and preparations in Sunspear would begin without him so he could have that last undisturbed time with his family before the craziness began._

“ _Not anytime soon but eventually we will,” was Torrhen's quiet reply and his eyes weren't leaving the profile of Jon's face, pensive. Jon wouldn't even need to take his eyes off of the stars to see it, he could hear it all in his best friend's voice. They were the only ones still awake of the group still riding with them, most other Houses had broken off to get home themselves._

“ _You sound so sure of that,” Jon chuckled and then slowly turned around so he was facing Torrhen, slightly tired and overwhelmed._

“ _I will **make** sure of it. I told you, Jaehaerys doesn't mean no more Jon. You're not losing yourself just because you have a crown now, because you have me.” Torrhen smiled at him and Jon breathed through the rock still lodged deep in his chest sometimes. “You're not alone. And this won't change you, it won't change us. I promise you that. And I will promise you over and over again.”_

_Jon nodded and rolled onto his side so he could bury his face against Torrhen's shoulder, Torrhen wrapped an arm around him and just held him for a good long time._

“ _You and me, it will never change. White cloaks and crowns won't ever change us. Always and forever. I love you, little brother.”_

“ _I love you, too.”_

_**Flashbackend** _

“You good though?” Torrhen tried to fish for any problems but Jon nodded, met his eyes easily and knew that he had nothing to hide.

“Yeah, I'm good. Just been up for 24 hours now and I think I really need some sleep before I start talking nonsense,” Jon confessed and pushed a hand down his face.

“Okay, come on,” Torrhen laughed and set an arm around Jon's shoulders, pulling him away from the balcony railing, “let's get you into bed. I'll watch your door and make sure you get at least a couple of hours of beauty rest, Your Grace.”

“You're an idiot.”

\--

“Long may he reign!”

Corlyn smiled as it rolled around the hall and drank a sip of wine with a look thrown over to his son who grinned back at him but was right away drawn back into conversation with some of his friends. He had brought Crownlander Houses together under the disguise of celebrating his uncle's nameday and then revealed the rise of Rhaegar's son, revealed Doran's letter, revealed the sigil that was now going to appear all over the Seven Kingdoms.

A threeheaded dragon with a falling star as a tail.

He couldn't be prouder of Jon for the choices he had made.

“I'm sorry that you're not the center of attention,” he nevertheless told his uncle when Laeno approached but he earned himself a loud bark of laughter and their cups being tipped together.

“Nah, my nephew, I have never cared for these type of things,” Laeno reminded him and looked around the room with a smile on his face. “I'm far happier to know that this day marks history being rewritten.” Laeno Velaryon had certainly always been content to stay in the background.

People knew him in relation to others, never really for himself.

He was Princess Rhae's younger son. He was Lord Lucerys' younger brother. He was Lord Corlyn's Captain of the Guard. He was Captain Jacaerys' and Captain Aurane's uncle. He was Arthur Dayne's mentor.

Precious few knew who he really was behind all those words.

“We'll still find a moment to raise our drinks to you later,” Corlyn promised and his uncle rolled his eyes. He would have his moment in the light, even if Jace would have to drag him there kicking and screaming. They wouldn't be where they were now without him, without the ever steady rock he had been for all of them. Laeno had caught Corlyn's father when from one day to the next, Lucerys Velaryon was no Lord anymore and exiled from the capital. He had taken his brother to travel to see friends, to make the journeys to Essos they had last made as children with their mother.

Only to return quickly again when Corlyn had struggled in his new position, his father remaining behind in Lys with the Rogares. Laeno had stood by him when Justine had lost two children. Laeno had stood by him through every single complicated dealing with the new ruling House. And long before that, Laeno had stood by him after Jace had left and vanished. His father swept away in the Red Keep to drown his pain in work, to seek distraction from his friends, his youngest brother safe and sheltered in the hands of his own friends.

Laeno had stopped the guilt, had stopped the many questions and the what ifs.

His uncle had taught each of his children how to wield a sword and a dagger in Alyssa's case, as he had already done with his nephews years before. He had taught Jace and Vaemon how to become a warrior because they had asked, because they had wanted to learn more than just how to protect themselves. And Laeno had been happy to teach them, just like he had with Arthur, just like he had done with the realm's wonderchild.

It was the younger generation's time to shine now, to become the faces of the future, but all of it was only possible because people like Laeno had stood strong in the shadows.

Corlyn would make sure that it wouldn't be forgotten, that the realm would remember the people who had stood in the shadows while other players had put the game into motion. House Velaryon would no longer be just a House of islanders, and his uncle's name would stand in the books of history, too.

_**Flashback** _

“ _Aurane told me one can see Dragonstone from here sometimes,” Corlyn heard as he stopped next to the young boy leaning up against the railing of the long terrace outside of Driftmark Castle._

“ _It's not that far away,” Corlyn confirmed and pointed into the fog that unfortunately had settled tight around the island since his little brother had anchored with their guests. “If the weather allows, you can see the Dragonmount from here. If the nights are clear and the castle is illuminated to its brightest, you can see it as well.”_

_Jon kept on looking into the fog as if he could see something that wasn't visible, he had never laid eyes on Dragonstone before. The weather had been too dreadful on the voyage over and Aurane had needed to steer far around the island to avoid the rocky dangers._

“ _Maybe on your return from the North, you'll be more lucky,” he gave some comfort to Rhaegar's son, Arthur's son, who looked at him with the eyes of his own grandmother. Always some thought hidden away in them. “You've seen pictures of it before, have you not?” Jon nodded and glanced up to him, he was ever wary of strangers as Aurane had warned him and Corlyn had only met him once before but there was also some trust warming up in violet eyes. “It's not as dreary and depressing as the texts make it out to be which is mostly grouunded on them having been written by Andals. They never truly understood the beauty and uniqueness that is Valyrian culture.”_

“ _Can you tell me more about Old Valyria? Aurane said that you've read a great many books about it,” Jon cheekily came along with the first question and Corlyn smiled. His brother's letters had gotten more and more different when he had talked about the boy. Somewhere along the way Arthur's son had into into 'our boy'. Aurane had stumbled into fatherhood with a very special young boy who carried the best of so many people in him._

“ _Come on, nephew,” Corlyn said hence and Jon grinned so bright that it was clear it didn't just go one way, “Take a walk with me and I'll try to answer all of your questions.”_

_And questions he had plenty. Like Vaemon, it just never stopped at one or five, one answer given three more popped up because a quick little mind had connected the dots already again and found more to know. Corlyn was glad to answer what he could, was glad that he could hand off this piece of Valyria to a child who wasn't his own, the more people knew, the more people cherished even a little part of old traditions, the more Valyria lived on. Not as an empire but as a memory._

“ _Can I ask you something personal, Lord Corlyn?” Jon asked him when they were already more than halfway around the castle in their walk._

“ _Of course,” Corlyn stopped them in view of the harbor, Aurane's ship was glowing even in this dreary weather, as if not even the fog dared to touch upon it. Maybe his father was right and Aurane had prayed to the old sea god he was named for a little too much. Jon was silent for a moment, sorting through his head but when he looked at Corlyn it was with guarded hesitant eyes._

“ _How did you feel when King Robert and his Council decided to take the Lordship away from your father?”_

“ _Insulted on his behalf. Angry.” Corlyn responded as honestly as he could without starting to curse, it had been a blow dealt to a family already grieving the loss of friends, knights, sailors, bannermen. “Overwhelmed a lot, I had a young son, another child on the way. One of my brothers dead, the other one a hostage. I wasn't really feeling ready to take on such much responsibility. My brother might have told you that I was old from the cradle on but I had a lot to learn still. But I was mostly horrified over how my House, my family, was being treated.” He explained it and leaned against the railing of the walkway, Jon listened with curious eyes, always listening with full attention. At his age, Vaemon had already had the tendency to get distracted again easily by skirts. And Corlyn would have also never thought about not answering, it was nothing secret, none of his true beliefs were secret. Not even the Crown would not still see him as a Loyalist, they just couldn't do anything against it, the strings were in his hands._

“ _We've never been something important in Valyria, my ancestors already moved us away to Driftmark long before the Targaryens settled on Dragonstone before the Doom. We were dragonriders in the olden ages, but we never stood out. Here, in Westeros? People looked to us for their ship captains, they looked to us for sea trade and warships, for sailors and knowledge of the winds and the seas. And then when the Targaryens began to rule? We had Queens, the Conquerors' own mother was a daughter of my House, his son married a daughter of my House. Princes and Kings married Velaryon daughters. Velaryon Lords married Princesses, my own grandmother was of course a Targaryen princess. We gave them Admirals, Master-of-ships, we gave them a fleet. We helped them win wars. We helped **Westeros** win wars, protected their shores. None of it mattered anymore to the new rule. None of it.”_

_No achievements mattered in Robert Baratheon's eyes if the blood didn't fit. At least his brother saw it different, otherwise Aurane would have suffered a more painful fate and the Crown would have never had the fleet that had protected them against a Ironborn Rebellion. Again._

“ _But things changed.” Jon pointed out and his eyes moved to watch the Pride of the Sea sway in the waves, “you're not nothing anymore.” In this boy's eyes they would and had never been nothing anyway, Corlyn could see it and was honored by it. The pig sitting on the Iron Throne saw it differently, he had been forced to elevate their influence because he had to, because the necessity of a fleet demanded it._

“ _A little bit, yes. Aurane being Lord Admiral of the Royal Fleet at least reminds people that we are still there,” and his youngest brother was more fit to take on that public role anyway, Vaemon would be able to join him soon, to be the faces of House Velaryon. Corlyn liked the shadows, he liked to remain unseen, “we had to fight to get there. And I'm not done, I'm far from done.”_

_He had plans, so many plans. And so many of them didn't even include this young dragon standing here with him now._

“ _Maybe I can help you one day,” Jon quietly admitted and their eyes met but Corlyn didn't take it as the half promise it could have been intended for. He smiled and reached out to tip up a chin even further, this boy still carried himself so hidden away. There was steel in him, there was fire in him, there was a dragon in his blood but until he found it all, he needed to keep being a child. Keep being innocent, keep finding a strength. The world was cruel enough, and if Jon chose to reveal his true identity, this world was going to want to destroy him, something he needed the right courage and strength for to prevent._

“ _Remain a child a little longer, Jon, it's a time you'll never get back. There is still enough time to grow up, and then we can talk.”_

_When the boy was ready, they could talk and change Westeros back to what it once was. United. Strong. And not on the way to become a target for Essosi greed._

_**Flashbackend** _

“My brother,” Jace snapped him out of the memory as he swung an arm around Corlyn's shoulders and knocked golden bands against his shoulderblade, “the room is celebrating and he is thinking again.” Corlyn rolled his eyes and accepted the cup that his oldest son held out to him, having come over with his uncle. “They'll call Prince Doran, Andric and you the Kingmakers soon enough, give yourself one night to enjoy.”

“I made no king,” he disagreed but still clanked his cup against Jace's and Vaemon's, Jace snorted in response to his words but it was Vaemon who spoke up.

“You had just as much a hand on what will now move forward as Prince Doran and Uncle Andric, and Jon knows that. Trust me,” his son told him and smiled that hidden secret grin again that he had been carrying for a while now already. Corlyn didn't kid himself, Vaemon knew better what went on in Jon's head than he did.

“I held the Loyalists together, nothing more.”

Jace huffed but let the argument fly for once.

“What is it then that brought you two over here?” He wanted to know, last he had seen them as the wine had begun to flow, Vaemon had been laughing with his Celtigar cousins and his wife and Jace had equally been entertaining some members of Aurane's crew who had chosen to remain on Driftmark for now.

“He dragged me,” Jace nodded to Vaemon who rolled his shoulders and grinned only bigger, “said he wanted to tell us something together.” Corlyn raised an eyebrow at his son whose grin turned softer.

“Vaemon?”

“As we're celebrating the future of Westeros returning into a dragon's hand, I thought it fitting to tell you that the future of House Velaryon is secured as well.” It took a moment to connect in Corlyn's mind but then he quickly pushed his still half full cup into Jace's stunned free hand and pulled his firstborn into a hug. Vaemon laughed and hugged him back.

“That is fantastic news, son,” Corlyn laughed when they pulled apart again, “I am so happy for you and Wynafryd.” He sent a searching look around the room and found the beaming eyes of his gooddaughter quickly enough, next to her, dabbing tears away his own wife was laughing, too.

“Good job, nephew.” Jace said softly then and briefly embraced Vaemon as well, as much as Corlyn's heart was bursting with joy now, it also had room left to see the masked pain in his brother's eyes. That firstborn child, it always stood out as something special. Vaemon walked away to share the wonderful news with his grandfather and Laeno and Corlyn turned to Jace. “Don't,” his brother immediately threw up the walls, the middle of a celebration was too public and too crowded for Jace, Corlyn knew it but didn't want to avoid addressing the situation either.

“We'll find them. One day. Put Jon on the throne and then we'll turn our eyes on Essos, I promise you.”

Jace nodded and then stepped away to congratulate Wynafryd on her babe.

Corlyn accepted another cup of wine from a servant and spotted his daughter sitting in solitude on one of the cushioned window ledges, her smile as sweet as ever but her eyes a million seas away.

“My daughter,” he began after he had walked over and Alyssa snapped her eyes up to blink at him, “my lovely daughter, brooding in a corner while celebrate the coronation of her friend. That cannot promise anything good. What plotted out masterpiece will knock me over in a fortnight then? I'd like to be prepared this time.”

“Can I ask you something, Papa?” Alyssa didn't necessarily react to the jokingly meant reminder to her last overtakings of the House when she had pushed Aethan's crush on Shireen Baratheon into having the girl be fostered with them. Sensing the seriousness in his daughter, Corlyn sat down next to her.

“You know that you can always ask me anything.”

“What do I do if revealing a friend's secret could protect her but probably destroy that friendship for good?” Alyssa asked quietly and Corlyn stared at her, not knowing what to say at first and then getting whiplash almost as his mind let him remember almost the very same question he had once asked his uncle whose answer he hadn't followed and in consequence lost his brother for so many years.

“Lys, if your friend's secret endangers their lives, you always need to put that over any promises made. Regretting it later will destroy you. Not everyone is as lucky as me and gets a second chance. Is there something you want to tell me?”

Alyssa shook her head but her eyes spoke a different word.

\--

“I know you don't agree with my strategy in this, son, but I need to protect the North. This goes beyond family connections.”

“Family connections?” Robb spit out and he was angry, angrier than Ned had surely seen him until now, especially regarding the fact that the anger was solely focused on him right then. “Arya is down there! Jon and Torrhen are your nephews! Uncle Benjen is your brother! Alysanne, Lyarra and Vorian are still children! We haven't even met Vorian yet! How can you just ignore all of that?”

“I'm not ignoring anything,” Ned calmly answered but Robb sent just another icy glare in his direction, and not just for the first time Ned had to realize that though his age still dictated it, Robb was no child anymore, no mere boy. He had learned, he had grown. He was more ready for responsibility at his age than Ned had when he had taken over Winterfell, and he had been older still. “I simply know that protecting the North and protecting my people comes first.”

“So you're siding with Robert?” Robb took it as confirmation to something that it wasn't and Ned couldn't understand why there always had to be black and white. Protecting his people came first. “Do you honestly believe that Robert cares even _a little_ about the North and our people?” Robb demanded to know and Ned threw a quick glance to the door of his solar, firmly shut it was but you never knew who walked outside these walls. Cat still had so many Riverlander maids, and he couldn't control what they wrote home.

“Robb, be careful with what you say.” He warned hence and it was not the right thing to say because Robb bristled. One hand came down on Ned's desk, the noise echoing back from the walls.

“Or what?” Robb asked and for a long moment just looked at him. Ned looked back and didn't see the son anymore who groaned over lessons but liked it so very much to be included when Ned himself went after his duties. He didn't see a boy anymore who had his mother's coloring but a heart of ice, who looked a Riverlander but was a wolf through and through. “I admire your wish to keep the North safe, of course I do. But this is not the time to settle your feet on **neutral** ground. Jon might accept that publicly but he'll be disappointed on the inside, and you know it. And Robert will demand an answer from you and he won't accept 'I'm staying out of it'. Robert was your best friend once, I get it, but Jon is our blood. Are you seriously telling me that family suddenly doesn't mean everything anymore?”

It was a low blow but Ned also knew that blood didn't always write a family tree in one's heart.

“I have lost too much to wars, Robb, to once again engage the...”

“That is Lyanna's son,” Robb snarled out and this was the young Stark who had surrounded himself more and more with sons of the North since their Southern visit. Who rode out for hunts with not only Theon and Domeric but also Alys' brothers Torrhen and Eddard. And along had come others, suddenly Winterfell was a place again where the heirs of all Northern Houses visited to make friends with the future Lord Stark. Like it had once been already when Brandon had been in Robb's place. And there barely passed a sennight these days where Luwin didn't carry letters from the Smalljon to Robb, or one from the oldest Forrestor boys, or Daryn Hornwood and his bastard brother. Or letters bearing the Manderly sigil that Ned guessed were only a shield that Wyman's granddaughters were using to hide correspondence between Vaemon and Robb from too curious eyes. “Lyanna's son taking back his birthright while the same man who killed his siblings will irrationally move against it. The Northern Lords will not take that lying down.”

“Jon is also the son of the man who...”

But Robb didn't let him talk, he was beyond just angry now.

“It wasn't Rhaegar Targaryen who burned down my grandfather and hung my uncle. Don't start becoming like Robert and get your facts wrong, Father.” Robb snarled at him and Ned hardened his jaw. “Jon isn't just Fire and Blood, he isn't just Dorne. He is ice as well, he is part of the North. And if the old ones want to sit down on their neutral ground and wait until the South decided this war, then we young ones will have to act _for them_.” Robb put his words down and then wrenched himself up from the chair he had been sitting in, Ned though swung himself forward and made to reach for his son's arm but Robb snatched it away, glowering at him.

“You will not move against my decisions, son.”

“I will do what I have to in order to protect the North's future. To protect the future of what will one day be my people.” Robb clarified and looked at him with hardened eyes, respect still there but dimmed now. “And I know that I will certainly not be alone in standing up now. This war will _not_ happen without the North. And your decisions are yours, they're not mine. I rather bend the knee to family than fear for my sons and daughters under another Mad King. I will find mother and Alys now, because that one thing I agree with you on, we'll have to marry as soon as possible now.”

And then Robb stormed from the solar, slamming the door shut again on his way out and no doubt alerting half the castle to another disagreement between father and son. Ned leaned back in his chair and looked over his desk, looked at the letters from Dorne, bearing the sigils of Houses Martell, Dayne and Targaryen. Looked at the older letters from King's Landing, bearing the sigils of Jon and Robert. Looked at the letters from the Riverlands, bearing the sigils of Houses Blackwood and Hoster Tully. He looked at the letter bearing Howland's sigil.

Only half of them actually opened.

He also looked at the letters he had written himself already, the one to Roose Bolton, finalizing Domeric's and Sansa's bethrothal. The one to Rickard Karstark, asking for a quick wedding to be arranged between Robb and Alys. The one to Howland, asking for words from an old friend.

And the letter he had been writing when Robb had come bursting into his solar.

One to Jon.

_**Flashback** _

“ _Lord Stark?”_

_Ned looked away from the view of the grand balcony overlooking the Torrentine bay and turned towards the younger of his nephews, the one who didn't know even that he was half Stark. Everytime he looked upon Jon he saw Lyanna coming alive again, and it was growing harder day by day to swallow his words but he had no right to reveal this truth to the boy. Not after what he had brought upon Arthur, House Dayne and this innocent boy's shoulders._

“ _Jon, can I help you with anything?”_

“ _You might,” Jon told him with that sweet smile of his, so similar to the one his mother had charmed her way around Winterfell the second she had been able to walk. Jon pointed to one of the benches and Ned nodded, they walked over and took a seat. “I was wondering if you can tell me something about the Wall and the Night's Watch. The people down here don't really know a lot, and even the books cannot say much.”_

“ _I'd be happy to offer some insight.”_

_He recalled what he knew about the history of the Nights Watch and tried to his best abilities to answer the many many questions that just kept coming from Jon's lips, curious violet eyes hanging onto every word of his. Lyanna had loved stories but this boy had the patience to actually sit through them for hours, there was no reckless wildness in him, no twitching and attention flickering away._

_He was all of Lyanna's best qualities. Her heart, her beautiful kind heart that always strove to see justice even for the most low standing person, it lived on in her son._

_He was his mother's son but underneath it all something slept that wasn't Stark, that wasn't Dayne. Ashara was certainly right in what she had written Ned so many times, the boy didn't just carry Targaryen blood, he was a dragon. One who hadn't yet learned how to fly. Shy and curious still, but the potential for fire and drive was there. Arthur had raised a good kid, had made due on his promises but even Ned could see that some things couldn't be stopped, no matter how much he maybe wanted to._

_He had the eyes of kings, in more than one way._

_Jon would one day find his footing, and then aspire for more._

_**Flashbackend** _

\--

In far away Lys, Lord Maegor Rogare walked out into the garden of his mansion, outside of the city as the house was, only the sound of waves breaking on the shore of the close by sea could be heard. The house had been standing here for a long time, long before the Rogares had moved there after Aegor Rivers had died, a huge mansion surrounded by high white walls as protection. The walls itself sheltered by palm trees and the whole estate only accessible via the private harbor a little ways down a dirtroad.

Over land it would take more than two hours even on a horse to reach the city gates of Lys, and nowadays one would have to cross through a more or less permanent camp residence with golden banners to do so. Nobody did.

Maegor hummed to himself, his hand holding a letter that his father-in-law had sent to the house by Maegor's youngest nephews. He had taken one look at the sigil on the wax stamp and then shushed the boys off to find the younger ones of his girls while he went ahead and searched for his only son. He found Lysaro in his favourite place in the garden, a little raised nook where he could sit in the shadow of a palm tree and watch over the harbor or read.

Lysaro looked up when Maegor sank down on the bench next to him and then handed over the letter, even broken the seal was still easy to be made out.

A three headed dragon.

Lysaro cocked his head to the side and pulled open the paper filled with a few lines in Prince Doran Martell's hand, “declaring the coronation of Jaehaerys Targaryen, Third of his Name, Rightful Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.” Lysaro read it out and then shared the smile Maegor was now carrying as well.

“It's time.” Maegor spoke up as well while Lysaro still read over the rest of Dorne's message, “I sent word to your grandmother.”

“Do you think she'll be happy?” Lysaro wanted to know and rolled up the paper again, “it's not exactly what she wanted.” His son pointed out and Maegor had to agree, even old as she was, his goodmother had taken over after his mother had died and had never stopped wanting the throne for him but Maegor knew this was the right way.

“Your grandmother wants a dragon on the Iron Throne, and she's gonna take any red one before her own unloved relatives. If she can't have you or me, she will support Jaehaerys.” Maegor also reminded his son and then took back the scroll and pushed it into the inner pocket of his tunic. “How fast can you get ready to head out?”

“An hour, maybe two. It depends highly on how fast I can find my squire, I gave Reno the day off.” Lysaro grimaced and looked around as if his cousin would magically appear behind some flower or so. Maegor nodded and looked out towards the harbor, his mind calculating how many men Strickland would bring to accompany him, Nyssa wouldn't be happy to be overrun by too many mouths to feast again. And she would even be less thrilled if the blood that was bound to be spilled would reach her carpets.

“We need to act, there will be war now and it is our duty to keep it from turning into dragon against dragon again. We have the means to assure the Company will not be used _against_ the boy. Make your move, Lysaro.” Maegor gave the word and his son stood up, he had always been able to rely on him, Lysaro had always kept a level head about himself and he hoped that now more than ever Lysaro would show that his legacy and his skill would be able to play out against the golden banners turning for black on red.

A few steps down into the garden, Lysaro stopped and looked around to him again.

“You're not expecting me to tell Strickland about...”

“No,” Maegor interrupted him before he could actually form his question to the end, “it was given to me by your great-grandfather's own hands, and _ **if**_ it returns to Westeros, it will be in my hands or yours.” Lysaro showed that he understood with a nod and then hurried off to get ready. Maegor leaned back on the bench and turned his face into the sun, he knew that Jon had made the right choice, the blood of Kings was in his veins and he had the right head for it, and most of all the right heart.

_**Flashback** _

“ _You don't remember him, right? Your sire?” Jon had asked him during the Storm's End tourney one evening as he had walked the boys back to the Dornish tents. Torrhen and Lysaro laughing loudly over something behind them, shoving at each other, definitely one look thrown too many down a cup of ale. Shadow was keeping them on the path while Ghost was walking silently next to Jon. They had been talking once more about Robert's surprising lack of any outwards reaction concerning Maegor's own presence at this tourney whereas Jon's father had been made the Targaryen scapegoat for this fat king more than a decade and a half after the Rebellion had ended._

“ _No, he died when I was just born, merely a few weeks old.” Maegor answered the question with a glance thrown over to the boy who was as tall as him already but that was no surprise, he guessed. Arthur Dayne was taller than him, and Rhaegar Targaryen had been said to have been a bit taller than his best friend still, and Maegor's own son had already grown taller than he had. “I had heard of him, of course, the good and the bad. My mother didn't correct history, she wanted me to know where I came from. But it's not our sires, our blood who make us who we are, Jon.”_

_Aerion Brightflame had been a monster in velvet cloaks._

_But that man hadn't been the man who had loved Maegor's mother more than her own parents ever had._

_Brightflame hadn't been the man who put her a pedestal so high that no man had ever been able to live up to him in the eyes of Maegor's mother, even if she had later on married again._

“ _It's how we were raised.”_

“ _And you were raised by one of the best men these kingdoms have probably ever seen.” Maegor assured this boy who despite seemingly knowing exactly what he wanted was still also only a boy. Insecure at times. Needing reassurement. Needing just a hand squeezing a shoulder from time to time. Arthur Dayne had done an incredible job at raising this child who was going to set out soon to change Westeros' future, Maegor knew that in his gut, he didn't need the words._

“ _We can't choose our blood but we can choose family.” Jon recited the words like the mantra it really was. Maegor had lived his entire life by it, the family of his blood had for the most part happily pretended he was dead because it pleased them to ignore difficulties. His mother had hand picked the people she had kept in contact with after she had left for Essos, and in the end only Corlys and Rhae had remained. “Did you ever feel like your chances of returning to Westeros and making your claim were dead the moment you chose Bittersteel as the father you never had?” Jon went on with a question that surprised Maegor, he showed it with a laugh._

“ _You listened far better than others I've talked to here,” he chuckled and took a moment to get his thoughts together. He hadn't been asked that question in a long time, the last one probably having been his youngest goodbrother. Many more people must have seen what Jon had read from only a couple conversations, there had been a time where a young Maegor had been stuck to the tall legs of this larger than life warrior. Times where the great Bittersteel had continously tripped over a boy who had only come up to his knees. “It certainly added to it. Aegor was a brutally honest man, he didn't color things more pleasantly just because he was faced with children. I was two and ten when he placed this overwhelming gift into my hands on his deathbed. That was when I knew, the Iron Throne, others could fight around it, I had other footsteps to follow, a different legacy to protect.”_

“ _And it wasn't your grandfather's.”_

“ _No.” Maegor confirmed it and smiled at this kid who was going to change entirely how the people nowadays saw the House of the Dragons. “I never called Aegor Rivers my father, and I never thought of him as such until after he was dead but I had been the son he had wanted. My mother told me that all the time, as did the men closest to him, even Calla and Daena. So my path was set. The Targaryens had plenty of heirs to keep their House and history alive, but Aegor Rivers had no son to fill his shoes one day. And maybe it won't be my own feet now but those shoes have been taken out again, polished and refitted.”_

_He had known it funnily enough in the moment that Jacaerys had stumbled into the Company and hence their lives again. This young man, broken and hopeless. Aunt Rhae's grandson, this little kid who had once been full of desires for adventures, never able to sit still at all. Uncle Corlys' favourite. How Lysaro had latched onto this shell of a man, a child piecing a grown man back together and then guiding him to where he was needed and where he could do good. Maegor's son, making a Captain in gold out of a skeleton of a lost man when he had not even been a decade old._

“ _Do you think that I am making the right decision to reclaim what was stolen from my brother?” Jon wanted to know from him just as Torrhen and Lysaro broke out into another fit of giggles. It was the way how Jon had phrased his question that told Maegor right away that the boy had indeed made a final decision and that it was indeed the right one. He still played along though, only Jon knew when he was ready to share his plans._

“ _Jon, there is one thing I want you to remember as you look at your choices. People will always think what they want to think, and yes, if you want to take the throne they will look at you.” He began and Jon listened with those ever attentive eyes. “They will search you to find if you're more Aerys' grandson or Rhaegar's son. They will look if you're more cruel Maegor or more Jaehaerys the First. They will look at you to see what kind of King you'll be for them.” More than ever Westerosi would scrutinize a new claimant to the throne, too many times they had already believed new to be better, only to be fooled. “New doesn't mean better, the people of Westeros have painfully come to learn that with Robert Baratheon. They suffered under your grandfather and endured because your father looked like a promising future but then he messed it all up, too.”_

_As had too many sons before him._

“ _They broke away from the Targaryens, believing that madness and obsession would no longer prevail, they thought now they would get their capable fair king to protect and lead them. Instead they got a drunken fool and a council who keeps infighting instead of actually solving problems. You can be that king, I have full belief that you can achieve what you set your mind to without losing your heart for it but you have to take it with the looks.” It was the thing that Maegor's mother had always sighed about, how much he had absorbed Aegor's chosen way of handling things, no pretty words, just honesty. “Along with the whispers. You will have to convince them that you're better, that you're that good king for them. But not by proving you're not another Aerys, not by proving that you're Rhaegar's son in all the **good** that means. You have to convince them by showing them who you are. History, tradition and legacies are important, Jon, we should never forget them but sometimes they need to take a moment while we look ahead. If you go for the throne, Jon, don't try and correct the mistakes of the past, fix the ones those people in King's Landing messed up for the future. 'Don't live in the past like I did', it was one of the last things Aegor once said to me before his death. His biggest regret.”_

“ _Live for the future instead.”_

“ _Don't present yourself as Aerys' grandson, not as Rhaegar's son. They lived and made mistakes and you cannot take the blame for their actions, dead as they were before you were born.” It would maybe turn into a problem Jon would have to deal with, as quick as he was to take something upon his own shoulders to carry, equal to Arthur's own tendency to swallow the blame for the mistakes others did just so they didn't have to. “If you want to connect your rebellion with something from the past then let them see you as Aegon's brother.”_

_Remind them of the boy and the future they let get butchered without punishing anyone for it for too long a time._

“ _Let them see me as the brother of the boy who never even got to have a chance.”_

“ _History is history, their ink is dry. You have only just opened yours.”_

_**Flashbackend** _

“Long live the King,” he sent a prayer to the gods above and then added another one right after it, his eyes drifting over to the calm sea so close by, “and long live the new Commander.”

\--

In his quarters in the Red Keep, in the early morning hours of a still quiet King's Landing, Lord Varys sat stunned. Unmoving. Silent.

In his left hand he clutched a letter bearing a sigil that the Seven Kingdoms had never seen before, a three headed dragon with a tail of a falling star.

Rhaegar had a living son and Varys had known _**nothing**_.

**Author's Note:**

> A question to think about:
> 
> Do you think Aegon of Tyrosh's feelings for Rhaena might be genuine or just a game?
> 
> See you guys in the next part, aka the last Oneshot of this series called Arisen From the Ashes!


End file.
